Meet Mr Smith
by theWAUfactor
Summary: Thrown unexpectedly into human form, Mr Smith finds himself immersed in this whole new way of living - and when a mysterious salesman promises to make him human forever for a few favours, it's a difficult offer to refuse; however, someone else has other plans. Based on the official unreleased plot with additional ideas.
1. Chapter 1

You might try to argue that a broader concept for contribution, otherwise known as Purpose, is merely a human social construct conjured up not too far back into the past as a vain means of laying down any foundations of worth within an unexplainably expanding universe. Birds however, will still weep whenever their mother leaves the nest, even if it is a repetitive process resulting in beneficial feed, and recent studies show that trees can actually cry out in distress despite not having a contextually biased set of emotions - which makes it no wonder that those you'd have never expected to might also be experiencing an element of existential turmoil, or even abide by it.

It's certainly not unusual to try not to think about how if this world, were it to have been altered even slightly, would throw our understanding of life as it is off course. The atoms comprising our existence could undergo an exothermic reaction, or at the very least, you might shudder at the thought of a ten foot spider following an increase in oxygen. If someone brings up the topic of Quantum Physics you change the subject - either out of boredom or brainache. You attended school this morning, but currently you're home, so how can you know you were you actually at school in the first place? How can you prove it if it's not there right in front of you? In Schrödinger's terms, it either exists or it doesn't as long as it isn't observed.

Machines pulse facts, logic and whatever arithmetic is throughout their daily, and perhaps nightly, run; this brings us to the realisation that there's masses of information which needs translating - defining - somewhere, somehow, for if we can't do it there exists an inconsistency - and this disconnect is something we've discovered between us makes high-order thinking sentient beings uncomfortable. Therefore, let us say we were able to give a computer the ability to think for itself in some way, whether that be through the development of an artificial intelligence or naturally occurring stream of consciousness through a living organism. It's guaranteed they'll become overwhelmed, or at least, they will eventually.

Then let's say we allow it to experience the hustle bustle of human living. What happens then?  
This, is what we are very soon to find out.

The Sun beat onto the roads and gleamed in through the windows. Trees rustled in the slight breeze, and the few clouds dotting the sky were fluffy and pale, assuring those below them that there'd be no sign of a shower. Two cars were parked outside waiting to be used for a potential shopping trip as a means of soaking up the rays. The day was - statistically frequent with normality. A young adult, a Sixth Form couple and a preteenaged addition to this family of friends would trade jokes in their usual meeting spot, a senior rolling their eyes and stifling a laugh in the backdrop whilst focused on a holiday workload at their desktop computer.

The girl of college age, Rani Chandra, stood by the door with the younger, Sky Smith, and began taking a measurement of her height with a pencil and meter stick.  
"Another centimetre?" the older exasperated, snapping the stick shut and regaining her own posture. "What's Sarah Jane feeding you? That's not just alien, that's _weird_."  
Sky bounced back to admire the line drawn. "I like eating my greens," she replied with a boast of confidence. "Everyone at school throws them towards the bin, but I think that's a waste."  
"Sounds like someone I know," Rani snorted, looking at the college boy. "CLYDE. Maybe if you decide to eat your greens, you might actually stand a chance at reaching five and a half. She's BEATING YOU."  
Clyde looked up from his dual screen gaming console and pulled a face. "Watch it, or I'll bite your knee," he quipped.  
The man nearing his twenties pitted against the former shut his console lid and laughed. "Are you serious? Sky's actually reached further than five and half?! _Clyde_!"  
"It's alright Lukey-boy, I've smashed your record at Time Attack more than five times."

A deep voice suddenly cut across the room.  
"Rani, I must say - it is illogical to take Sky's measurements using such a method when you could have asked for me to lend my scanning facilities."  
Said girl spun round startled to face where the remark had come from.  
Mr Smith was active in his usual space, screen displaying it's variegated fluid pattern.

"Hey, nothing against you!" Rani told him. "This is just how my mum used to take mine. It's a personal thing. Adds it's own little touch."  
A little too on cue, there came a crashing noise, arisen from the little stained glass window beside the entrance to the attic.  
Everyone spun round where they were standing or sprung from where they were sat, eyes rearing towards Mr Smith's Chassis which triggered alarms before he could have chosen to set them off. A small, dirt-covered sphere used it's spiked edges as a means of sticking to the keyboard.  
"What is i–?" Sarah Jane started, her voice strained.  
"–High levels of Mutagenic energy," Mr Smith responded immediately. Steam bursted out from the Chassis vents. "All of you! You must withdraw to safety. There are merely seconds before a blinding whiteout fills the atti–"

With that command, Sarah Jane ushered the others out, able to spot the spherical object emitting a vibrant stream before smacking the door shut behind her. Her and those in her care proceeded to huddle together.  
He wasn't wrong. Illuminating from the hinges, was a burst of bright light lasting around a minute.

Followed by silence.

Sarah Jane slowly brought herself up again. "Is everyone alright?" she asked the rest of them gently.  
They nodded slowly, clambering up after her.  
There wasn't any more action during what felt like another hour, though couldn't have been any longer than a sixteenth of that, until Luke raised an eyebrow and nudged Clyde with his elbow.  
"What's that noise?"  
From the other side of the door, was the sound of hurling, or coughing. Everyone exchanged glances and nodded, to which Luke closed his hand around the doorknob allowing them to find their way in once more, their attention brought to the centre of the room.

There lay someone on the floor with a dangerously purple face, spluttering uncontrollably. Through their ridiculously long locks of deep brown, you could decipher a naked frame so fragile it were almost skeletal, and rattling with most probable anxiety.

The five stood for a moment, unsure where this person had come from, and unsure how to approach.

"Oxygen, get the oxygen," Sarah Jane intervened then with haste. "You'll find it in the left cupboard — well, don't just STAND there! HURRY!"  
Rani ran towards the cupboard, unbolting it to retrieve a green tank and slamming it shut as she darted back towards the new arrival. Clyde fetched a tartan blanket from the sofa, placing it over them first, who peered up at the two with innocent watering eyes; the irises were seemingly prismatic, fragmented into a multitude of colours like a kaleidoscope.  
Rani lifted the stranger's head slowly. "I-it's going to be alright," she assured them in a soft, friendly voice, pulling the mask connected to the tank over their mouth. "It's alright, see? There you go. You're alright. We've got you. I promise."

Sarah Jane paced over, flipping open her watch and scanning the individual sprawled across the floor. "Human," she proclaimed. "Height: 6'4, Weig-oh goodness, that's vulnerable. 136lbs. Blood Type A. No name or traces of family, but that isn't too much a substantial loss. No broken bones, that's the definition of a lucky fall—hold on. Subject sufferers from Emphysema."  
Subject in question made a muffled, panicked sound with shrunken pupils.  
"I think we should take them to hospital," Sky chimed in. "If we have the medical ... Things — we can make up the rest! They're going to die. I don't want them to die." Her lips quivered. "We don't even know them—"  
"They won't die as long as we have the right amount of oxygen for them," Luke assured her, moving nearer to the girl to give her a hug. He turned to Sarah Jane. "She's right, though. You should take them, check for a diagnosis and see what is actually the best treatment for them. We can easily prepare documents, I'll try to get Mr Smith up and running again; it shouldn't be too difficult if the Chassis has just blown a switch."

Clyde and Rani were already lifting the body, the first with a worried look appearing upon his face.  
"Wow. They ARE skinny," Clyde exasperated as he took the legs. "All you can feel is bone."  
Rani hauled the back into her arms. "I hate to say it, but-" She quickly readjusted the blanket. "If a random bloke's came crashing through our window, never mind the fact that we now know he has Emphysema, I'd already have thought that he hasn't had a great time of it."  
Sarah Jane scurried behind the two, grabbing the handle of the oxygen tank. "Whenever we're back, we're back." She told Luke. "Just try and get Mr Smith!"  
Luke nodded, opening the attic door and watching the four out.

After Sarah Jane, Clyde, Rani had left with the struggling stranger, he reached for the toolbox resting upon a bookshelf and kneeled down against Mr Smith's Chassis, rummaging for a screwdriver and taking apart a strip of metal. Sky began hurriedly circling the room without an aim, until her eyes were fixed on a particular area.  
Luke heard her stop moving. "Is something wrong?" he asked.  
She faltered. "The crystal."  
Luke spun quickly. "The crystal?"  
"Look!" Sky ran for the cabinet where the Xylok would have laid. "He's gone!"  
"Gone?!" Luke repeated again. He darted for the broken window. "Mum!" he cried from it. "MUM!" But the Nissan Figaro had already started rolling away. Luke faced his sister. "We need to do something. Right now."  
"W-what?"  
"I-I don't know," he responded after spending time to think, sounding immensely defeated. With a worried sigh, he turned violently towards the top of the cabinet.

"W-who—Who is that?"


	2. Chapter 2

The Bannerman Road Gang were a family of closely netted friends who'd been roped together under bizarre circumstances as resulted from possessing their own ... _Singularities._

The eldest of the six, Sarah Jane Smith, had seen the stars from a place other than the gravitational field which pulls us down to Earth. She was fortunate enough to travel with a man who wasn't from 'around here,' to glide through time and space, capturing unimaginable memories to those who'd stayed within the solar system. Though she did return some decades ago, the excitement never seemed to leave her alone, happening to follow her to her doorstep and make itself at home.

She later adopted a son by the name of Luke – created by a unit of Cthulhuesque beings under the guise of a carbonated drinks bottling company. With a mind generated from thousands of scans, Luke was a genius in academic respects. He later found himself with a premature entry and graduation from Oxford University, working at the PHAROS Institute, whilst her daughter Sky was recently adopted having also been created by those who were new to our soils and starting at secondary school to see how she would manage, the school which Clyde and Rani continued attending for the Sixth Form, two average college students thrown out of their ordinary lives depicting the anti-conformist and proschool subcultures and into that of extraterrestrial empiricism the moment they stepped foot into Ealing - stepped foot into the lives of the Smiths.

But Mr Smith mostly kept to himself. He was not human, nor was he computer; however, the more he insisted the latter, the more those he knew decided to say the opposite. The truth of the matter was that there'd been things he'd kept hidden, which Luke, Sky, Clyde and Rani and even Sarah Jane weren't made aware of. He wondered if they wondered alike how he wondered, and wondered if they wondered if he could wonder alike when —

— The arrival was taken into A&E and hospitalised for a week.

As expected, despite his knowledge, Luke had still been unable to boot up Mr Smith's Chassis again - although it seemed he wouldn't have needed to. By the time the stranger regained his awareness, if he were to he spoke of them, there had been documents prepared on file.

Surprising? Not particularly.  
Unusual? _Absolutely._

Luke printed them out and handed them to Sarah Jane in secret as soon as she arrived home.

The following Saturday, the two of them were sat waiting in the reception area until a nurse led them through to the patient's room.

Hooked up to countless machines, there lie a man who looked as though he'd only recently hit the mid of his three tens, visibly trying to make himself comfortable beneath a thin sheet of coarse fabric.  
"There was a dispatch of supplemental oxygen addressed to you earlier on in the week which should arrive this afternoon," the nurse explained. "This must be administered sixteen hours a day, and we'll be providing you with a meal plan he needs to be following at home." She strapped the Velcro of a BP machine around one of the stranger's scrawny arms. "I will say, he's an obstinate one. It took us days until we could get him to start talking!" The woman gushed, removing the device following a result. "He's ex-tre-mel-y arti-culate as well, is-ant he?!"  
The stranger in turn lifted his head lightly and with a soft laugh replied: "You could sweep me off my feet with that broom of yours."  
The nurse squeaked, grasping at the wood rested against the wall and her face seeping red at a rather alarming rate. "Ca-ll me if you wa-nt me—!" She yelped as she galloped out with it.  
The door clicked shut, cueing Sarah Jane to approach him. "Who are you?" she asked, channelling haste.  
The stranger responded carefully, in a low voice dripping with baritone. "Oh, Sarah Jane, really. I should have thought that was perfectly obvious." A deft movement of the neck swiped away any stands of hair covering his face. His eyes lit up, to which she finally recognised the multitude of colours reflecting within their irises.

" _I'm Mr Smith_."

Sarah Jane shot him a look crossing the lines between surprise and shock. "But according to the scans, you're human!" she exasperated.  
"That makes me sound terribly dull." Disappointment extinguished the light from man's pupils. He continued to shuffle in his position, the many wires sounding a collective clunk. "Scan again, scan for excitement!"  
Luke sized him up apprehensively. "Sky looked at the desk and found the crystal wasn't there."  
"I scanned the wall unit," Sarah Jane intervened. "There were no traces of it there either. We thought it was destroyed." She knelt down next to the bed and quietened her voice to a whisper. "We thought you were dead."  
The stranger brought out his left hand from underneath the duvet. "If by dead, you mean sitting in a hospital bed and too coincidentally still relying on machines, well!" He twisted his wrist and let slip a guttural laugh. "–Then break out the black crepe. Oh goodness. I-"

Before being able to register it, Sarah Jane moved forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He heard a sniffle, and slowly stopped twisting his wrist, hesitating, before fastening himself around her in return.  
"We have to call you a different name now, I guess." Luke creased his forehead. "Otherwise it'd sound a little formal."  
The stranger snorted. "Heavens, no. Don't."  
"Still Mr Smith?"  
"Call me Smithy," he cut in, removing one arm from Sarah Jane so he could curl one of the ends of his hair. "It has a nice ring to it. Don't you think?" He smiled in a way which allowed you to see his teeth. They weren't particularly flattering, jagged, a soft enamel discolouring the sides and rows slightly disjointed at the front; though they could have been worse, and you were able to tell the expression was genuine from the warmth it gave, so it didn't matter anyway. "A ni-ce ri-ng t'it, Smi-thee—"  
"Heavens, no. Don't." Sarah Jane laughed at the imitation of his nurse, to which the other two laughed with her.

Smithy's eyes glistened again, this time alike that of an adult discovering the sweet shop they visited as a child crossing down an old alleyway. "Everything, everything's in colour," he told the pair siding him softly. He stretched his hand out towards Sarah Jane's hair, touching it gently with the ends of his fingertips. "Chestnut brown. But I can see it now. I can see what I've always known is there. It's very ... beautiful. Though rather blurry."  
Luke glanced over at Sarah Jane as if to ask her if she had anything to provide the newcomer.  
"A-ah," She reached into her cardigan pocket and brought out a pair of glasses. "You might find these useful. I can always pop into the optician's on the way home and pick a pair up for you if they are."  
Smithy shakily went to take them. "T-these are perfect," he replied quickly with an exhale of relief followed by a small cough. "T-thank you."  
"I've packed a set of clothes for you to wear in the meanwhile as well," Sarah Jane told him. She rose from her position and placed her hands on her hips. "After you've changed, we can get you back home and look into everything."

0o0

Upon their return, Sarah Jane gestured toward someone waiting outside the attic to enter.

Smithy gingerly stepped through the door. The garments she'd picked out were from her own wardrobe, brown linen trousers with a matching pair of leather shoes and waistcoat, a white ironed blouse underneath. To get an idea of just how fragile he really was, even they fitted rather loosely on him, though the wear would do for the time being. Sarah Jane stayed true to her word in that a very recently fixed set of rectangular-lens glasses were now resting upon the bridge of his nose. By the handle, he pulled in after him a green tank a quarter of his height with a nasal cannula attached.

The room fell silent as three sets of young eyes fixed themselves upon the arrival.  
Smithy squirmed awkwardly at the attention. He thought he would have adjusted to it naturally, responsible for providing vital information on call through his Chassis. However, this felt different. Thought the computer weren't strictly a shell, it certainly acted as something to hide behind.

"You're looking at him as though he's armed," Sarah Jane told the others, an agitated edge to her voice.  
Smithy raised a quivering finger. "Unless you count the oxygen tank." He wheezed nervously.  
It was at this point without warning, avoiding the proclamations and attempted restraints from his friends, that Clyde clambered towards the safe, punched in the code and wielded the gun contained within. "We really can't be trusting you so easily," he snarled through gritted teeth. "This whole thing is just, it's just — REALLY uncool." There was a pause in his train of thought. "It's giving me the Willies."  
Rani looked distressfully towards the Chassis. "Is Mr Smith okay?" she asked.

"–Yes, I am."

They turned to where the voice seemed to rise from and ended up facing Smithy again, who'd now resorted to an awkward twirl of the fingers. "The empty sphere latched onto the control pad is harmless," he tried to explain. "I've managed to absorb the Mutagenic agent a—" The stranger shifted towards the overshadowing silhouette leeching into the corner of his eye. "Clyde, this could go so much smoother if you were to stop threatening me with that Trantarian nose clipper."  
"Not moving," the boy in question snapped back with a sharp emphasis on the 't' and a serious look as he levelled the ends with the newcomer's face.  
Smithy pursed his lips anxiously. "I guess in order to convince you, I'm going to need to start from scratch."

He began to reel off everyone's names, pointing at said person per turn. There was silence after that, which resulted in him wrapping himself around. He felt an uncomfortable beating in his chest and force within his throat, which led him to ride off a series of declarative facts to provide more satisfying evidence for the keen ears in what could only have been panic.  
"Instead of using your time trying to intimidate me, you might as well make a start on that Picasso essay you're already a week behind on - the one you wouldn't stop calling by for in multiple poor attempts to try to get me to write it for you, Clyde. Or you could be prepping a nervous Rani for her seventeenth driving lesson tomorrow. Maybe disciplining a certain lady for getting through an entire packet of custard creams last night whilst researching an article on solar energy—"

The group reared their heads towards Sarah Jane with smirks amongst their faces. The woman made a strained noise of disapproval.

"—Perhaps marvelling over how Sky could have grown three inches in a fortnight," Smithy moved on quickly, though of course without no contribution to the chuckle he'd just instigated.  
"You're just lucky you're away at Oxford," Sarah Jane muttered bitterly to Luke.  
"Well," Sky chipped in. "You do TALK like Mr Smith."  
The university student joined her in an attempt to part ways with the renowned look of harsh circumstantial disagreement which somehow managed to reach mothers across the world. "Just with the filters taken out," he remarked.  
"V-Voicing your thoughts isn't as easy like this," Smithy told them, beginning to fumble his fingers whilst gazing down at them as he laced them between each other as he spoke. "When you've never had to use another tool in order to translate script from your verbal stream of consciousness as a means of creating dialogue, the process takes quite some time getting used to."  
They'd no idea what Smithy was talking about, looking at one another for ideas how to respond, and ended up nodding sympathetically in turn.

Aside from one.

"This is a trick." Clyde asserted again, insistent still on disregarding what the newcomer had to say.  
The visitor mentally prepared himself and turned to face the younger man.  
It hit this younger man only now just how tall the older was, needing to crook his neck upwards from least half a foot down.  
Smithy narrowed his eyes. "No, this is a trick," he replied softly—

—Producing an ace of hearts from behind the boy's ear.

Clyde staggered back, eyebrows arched high and mouth hanging open in disbelief. "H-HOW DID Y–"  
Smithy snapped the fingers holding the card, to which an entire deck then spilled outwards. Exclamations of surprise rose into the air.  
"There's a pack of cards behind the archive Luke uses during his respite," he explained. "If you're able to locate them and have an understanding of visual-spatial awareness and speed distance time, you can create the illusion of spontaneous materialisation." A grin surfaced again. "Of course though, everything I've said and done just now is merely a gimmick. Isn't that right, Clyde?"

Clyde shook his head as the thought of instigating further debate wiped itself from his mind immediately.

Smithy clicked his fingers a second time, and the cards seemed to vanish into mid-air. "I've always wanted to do that," he mused with what sounded like a sigh.  
Sarah Jane stepped forward suddenly. "Do you actually know anything about this?" she asked him.  
His look was vacant, staring at a crack in the ceiling, until a weak shrug surfaced upon his bony shoulders. "I don't know," he responded, and the tone sounded honest. Smithy grasped his right hand into his left and struck them down in front of him shyly. "But I am exactly who I say I am, and who you think I am."  
Rani folded her arms. "So, you ARE Mr Smith?" she pressed forward.  
He looked up in affirmation.  
Th schoolgirl frowned, her lips curling into an unsure grimace. "That's really strange."  
"It is, isn't it?" Smithy dragged his oxygen tank infront of him and used the handle to straighten out his back. "W-well, I mean, obviously the Chassis is still intact. You could connect a hard-drive and mouse to it and it would work like an ordinary computer. I think you all forget I'm not actually the machine itself." His fingertips shakily danced across his lips. "I guess you could see me as a mind manipulating the body from the outside. I don't want any of you to take offence to this, but through our crystalline lattices, Xyloks have always looked down upon humans. We've always thought to live as one would be quite disgusting. See, using this concept of us being a brain, you would be three pounds of water, lipids and neurones - cased within a sack of meat." He shuddered and the need for a ruthless cough interrupted his ponder, to which he then found it fit to sardonically add: "Not only am I human now, it seems I'm also at a substantial disadvantage in contrast with the rest of you. So this is rather fortunate."

The attic fell into another silence, and Smithy began ringing his hands. "I–I don't think I've ever actually explained the phenomena of Mutagenic energy, have I, Sarah Jane?"

An uncertain look flashed into Sarah Jane's eyes.

The ringing of hands changed to the tugging of hair. "Mutagenic energy is a radioactive substance which causes —well— genetic mutation, as the name suggests," Smithy explained. The others listened intently, as though it were another day he were using his Chassis as a means of describing a recent occurrence they'd been investigating. "Approximately one hundred and sixty million years ago, before cybernetic enhancements became the preferred method, we would take advantage of Mutagenic energy as a means of communication. Colour change, projection, telekinesis, telepathy – there's an inexhaustible list of capabilities which stem from it's usage. During the aftermath of the collision, one Xylok harnessed an incredible quantity and introduced metamorphosis into the equation. As we were underground, it were only natural he managed to trace the structure of a mole.

Of course however, first trials are rarely successful. Using sonar, we located the cadaver, impaled from the inside out by crystalline shards, reaching out for the surface. Over centuries, many have tried to use Mutagenic energy for it's metamorphic capabilities - though due to it being radioactive, this could only be temporary. The results on every turn would mirror the previous, for something as small as a bird or something as demanding as a deer. Contradictorily, another Xylok proposed that if one were to harness multiple large channels over a short period of time, they would be able to maintain that cell structure permanently with no further damage. Discourse arose from Mutagentic foundation for thousands of years. Until of course, the Industrial Revolution and the rise of machinery - or return thereof, in our sake."

"This must be deliberate then," Sarah Jane decided. "And I think whoever placed that sphere there is the one responsible." She folded her arms. "We've just got to figure out who planned this!" With that, the woman headed outside to make a phone call.  
Smithy watched her leave, approaching the vase resting upon her workspace and sniffing a tulip. The others watched, exchanging glances and apprehensive over whether or not to intrude.  
Sarah Jane bolted back five minutes later. "I've contacted UNIT," she intervened sharply. "They're aware of the situation and said there's no activity from the buried Xylok crysta—what are you doing snooping around my DESK?!"

Smithy rolled up his blouse, carefully placing the tulip into his naval.

Rani returned her gaze to the newcomer and walking over to remove it. "Oi, c'mere," she tutted playfully, grasping two strands of his hair and tying it between them. Admiring her handiwork, she stepped back with a confident hands on the hips. "THAT'S better!"

Smithy blinked, startled, to which Sky laughed.

On instinct, the older girl then spun towards the chimney. "M-"  
"Smithy?" The newcomer seemed to have moved elsewhere, an arm now rested on the head of the sofa. "Over here." He faced Sky, now allowing him to try out the different fruits residing in the nearby bowl. The girl popped a cherry into his mouth. "Unless you're expecting an answer from Father Christmas, I wouldn't bother," he told her with the cherry evidently stored in his left cheek.  
Clyde swaggered forward slightly. Everyone knew what was coming. "Oi, Rani." That familiar goofy grin. "I guess you could say you m-"

"-Might as well be talking to a brick wall?"  
At beating a disheartened Clyde to the punchline, Smithy triumphantly tossed an apple aside and took a bite into a banana without peeling it.

"I'm going to download data from UNIT's Skywatch satellites," Sarah Jane piped up suddenly. "They should ideally be able to explain just what's happening to you."  
Smithy's eyebrows arched, as he pulled a string of the banana from his overbite. " _Must_ you?" he asked. He stood upright and clasped his hands together. "They said 'No Alien Activity,' ergo day off, _ergo_ — let's go out? Let's go out! The _shops_ , you _all love_ going down to the shops, _let's all go to the shops_ —"  
Sarah Jane narrowed her eyes. "You're staying right here," she told Smithy lowly.  
"Sorry? No! No, please! You can't do that!" Smithy rose his clasped hands to the left, down and to the right, in another nervous motion. "I'm experiencing everything firsthand! You couldn't possibly understand how dispiriting it is being unable to engage with your environment in the practical sense! I've heard so many things about outside, but where have I been? _Underground_! An _attic_! I want to get candyfloss from a pop-up van and go on one of those coin operated 'kiddie' rides outside Tesco! Secondly, imprisoning a fascinating lifeform like this. It's incredibly selfish-" He hesitated. A smile creeped onto his hollow face. "-Or perhaps she wants me all to herself, eh kids?"  
Her face flushed red as Smithy frog-stepped towards the door pulling his tank after him. A mixed reaction came from the others, Rani and Clyde cringing whilst Luke and Sky raising an eyebrow each.  
"Sky and I discussed it; you can have our room, by the way," Luke told the one exiting. "I'll be gone by this afternoon, and you'll need a bed with your condition - so I'll stay here with Mum and make sure it's tidy."

Smithy made his thanks clear before his face disappeared behind the door.  
His movements were slow, somewhat graceful, and not just because they needed to be – but simply because they were. There was a pattern - a sequence - a beat, like the consistent ticking of a metronome which still struck; yet, there were also a newly found element of something childlike, and somewhat curious. The world was suddenly within reach instead of an elaborate fantasy compiled from file upon file, and if you thought the neighbour peeping over your fence was too much, you hadn't seen the ghost of a machine specialising in analytical skill.

He gently leaped out of the attic, though whilst out of sight, it was impossible to miss the shriek of

"Good lord, what terrible wallpaper!"

To which Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. "Keep an eye on him," she told the others sternly as they proceeded to follow.

She turned back to her desk and exhaled heavily.  
Luke peeked outside from the broken stain glass window and saw the four leave the house. Smithy interchangeably seemed to lead, fault, and let another go ahead, Sky remaining beside him whilst either one of Clyde and Rani took the other and returned to their companion's almost as though they were taking turns.

There was a yell from Rani as Smithy parted from Sky and aimlessly crossed the road just before a car drove past. The man turned back and waved his hand dismissively with a laugh. Luke turned away and left them to it.

Upon hearing a rustle, he made his way toward the desk the woman was sat at. "Are you okay, Mum?" he asked quietly.  
Sarah Jane smiled emptily. "I'm fine! I just–-" She cupped her chin. "I'm just - just thinking, that's all. Thinking, _feeling_ —"  
"Isn't that what brains are meant to do?"  
She chuckled heartedly. "You're my little star, you know that? I'm just - just having so many different thoughts at once, Luke. Oh Luke, you know how it is! Of course you would, wouldn't you; you have to sort out the thoughts of more than too many minds every day!"  
Luke puffed out a cheek modestly. "It's nothing," he assured her. He scratched his head. "Is what you're thinking about to do with what's been going on lately?"  
To that she didn't answer.  
Hesitation.  
"Mr Smith's acting very different, isn't he?"  
Sarah Jane raised her head slightly. "He's unsure." She straightened her back against the support. "Or maybe this is what he's really like! And I want to believe him. I want to believe him, but there's something, something telling me a truth lies in what Clyde was trying to say. We can't place all of our trust into this. I mean-" Her voice resumed in lowly tones. "The three of us of all people should know."  
There was a pause —  
— and Luke nodded solemnly.

...

After thirty minutes, Sarah Jane rose from her seat.  
A visit to the Headquarters was a far better option.

She told Luke she was going out to see if elsewhere were fit to scout for information, and left him in charge of the house.

GOOD LUCK WITH THAT DARLING

There was a click on the attic door.

I *WOULD* MAKE SURE YOU WERE UNABLE TO FIND ANYTHING IN THAT LOT, LADY  
YOU SEE  
I *HAVE* BEEN VERY CAREFUL

...

...

...

The computer was  
still on.

The monitor flickered, and a foreign set of code began to scroll across the webpage in a strange fashio —I ' ' ' ' '

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' U

I'VE GOT YOU  
RIGHT  
WHERE I WANT  
YOU


	3. Chapter 3

"Would you say this was appropriate?"

Smithy drew open the curtain to reveal ... the exact same suit he wore last time.  
"You haven't changed," Rani told him.  
"I did!" He stepped back to reveal those on the hangers. "They don't have the same barcode!"  
Rani laughed. "It's a spitting image of the first!" She folded her arms. "I mean, you could buy it. But wouldn't it be a waste of money if you own one identical to the other?"

The man hovered a finger above his chin in thought. "I'm going to need another item of clothing to wear whilst this one is in the wa-" He faulted suddenly. "Actually..." Smithy's line of vision lay further onward from the department they currently stood, and following it, Rani faced him again with surprise laced into her features.  
"Wait, are y-"  
"Yes! Yes, I am!" Smithy exclaimed, though he hesitated then upon reading her expression. "Hold on. Is that a probl—?"  
"N-no! No, of course not!" Rani bit her lip. "I just-you just-we don't usually see many m-"

But Smithy had already past her, scuttling hastily onward after changing back into the original wear he don.

Reaching the back wall, the man soothed both thumbs over an item of silk.  
His eyes glimmered. "I'd like to buy this," he pressed, them fixed upon the garment. "It's incredibly sof-no, have a feel."  
Rani awkwardly fiddled with the fabric. "T-that is very soft," was her reply, and she found herself nodding appreciatively.

Smithy slowly let go, beginning to scour the shelves from left to right. "There are so many different colours; there are so many different patterns," he uttered to himself as he cocked his head. "... So many different fits, unlike the suits. The suits were tedious. The blazer, the polo, the tie, the trousers – it's linear and cut, and for no reason in particular! With these however, our choice as the consumer grows immensely. They're so exquisite in their design." Smithy clasped his hands together. "They're so beautiful."  
Rani stalled, unsure why she'd taken her initial approach now smiling widely.

"Well, if you're going dress shopping, you've come to the right place!"

It took two hours browsing and ten concerned messages from Clyde to convince the two of them they needed to leave, the first in a new short-sleeved t-shirt, denim skirt and a matching jacket, the second in a red trumpet dress. The one in the short sleeved t-shirt happened to be struggling with the bags of which the items laid tucked inside didn't belong to her — the second watching a breeze upon the slight frills gliding over his now high heeled feet as he pulled an oxygen tank behind him.

The one awaiting their arrival was accompanied by Sky, stationed at an outlet supermarket.  
Today was a cheap lunch, on him, and young and curious minds alike, it didn't take any of them long to decide on a bite to eat and head for one of the counters.

"You like those, don't you?" Rani laughed, looking over at Smithy as she scanned her baguette at a self service checkout.  
He nodded as he found a vacant one next to her. "If there's something I've always been interested in trying, it has to be natural fruits," he told her, beginning to process the punnet of Darlisette strawberries, before the all too familiar squawk of—

" **UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA**."

The man jolted.

" **REMOVE THIS ITEM BEFORE CONTINUING**."

Smithy rolled his eyes, fishing his cannula out from one of the plastic bags waiting to be used. "Talking machines!" He turned to Rani. "Don't you just hate them?"  
His friend responded with the all too infamous you can't be you serious face, watching helplessly as the man waved away the assistant and (most probably illegally) accessed the mainframe, slotting in a few of the pound coins Clyde allowed him and finally picking up his bags, grabbing the handle of his tank and sashaying out of the store.

Nearing Bannerman Road, Smithy continued to immerse himself in shenanigans as he walked at quite a distance behind the rest of them. It was only when Clyde took a closer look they realised why this was the case.  
The college boy sighed impatiently. "Jesus Christ. This is worse than Luke and Sky combined."  
"And THEN–" the man continued, taking slow, large steps as he pulled on the tank handle in one hand and held a ridiculously large book of fairytales in the other. "They all lived happy. Ever after." His eyes rose from behind the hardback. "These are quite lovely adaptations! Though I do find myself rather outraged at the injustice of the ugly sisters leaving Cinderella at home whilst they go out to the ball."

Clyde struggled to read the expression which suddenly cast itself onto Smithy's face.

Smithy used his fingers to snap the book shut. "I think she should have gotten the choice to go with them instead instead of catching dust by the fireplace," he mumbled with an air of something sounding almost sorrowful, and resumed walking.  
Clyde and Rani exchanged same uncertain glance.  
"L-Let's just leave it," the latter told the former, checking to see if Sky (who so happened to be picking flowers from a stranger's garden) was still behind her and catching up with Smithy, moving now with slightly more vigour which meant he were considerably far ahead of them.

Shortly following this discourse, at the final turning before Number Thirteen, they then found themselves bumping into familiar company sporting the features of a rather short woman with olive skin and bobbed dark hair, wearing a floral purple shirt, jeans and a smile so wide you'd have thought she hadn't seen her daughter in seventeen years.

"Ra-ni! Ra-NI!"

Gita scurried forward - before noticing the recently acquianted to the neighbourhood. "Oh, he-ll-o there! So, so, who's this new fella then?" The woman took this opportunity to tiptoe over to Smithy's direction. "I love, lo-ve, LOVE your dress! Wait, wait! Let me guess-"  
''Jaeger," they said at the same time.  
Gita clasped her hands together and squealed in delight. "I guessed right, I guessed right! You see?" She poked Rani playfully. "I AM keeping up on the latest fashions, Miss Cheeky!"  
"Mum, meet Mr Smith," Rani parted between the two of them in order to help the introduction go as smoothly as possible.

"Smithy's a — good friend of Sarah Jane. An old friend, 'been abroad for a few years!" she turned to the man and asked him in a low voice: "Where have you been?"  
He shot her an uncertain look, shutting his eyes in thought. "I w-well - most of my work has been done sat at a computer - which would mean, as much as I could have revelled in being able to said that I might have scoured the sights of capital centrals, say, France, I really—" The man paused, opening his eyes and flashing a grin Gita's way. "Are you sure this isn't your sister, Rani?"  
The woman gawked. "Hoohoohoohoohoo-h!" She fanned her face enthusiastically. "You don't look a day over twenty five yourself! So what do we mean by good friend then, eh? That Sarah - oh! - she never tells me anything!" And, to nobody: She could have introduced me. Smithy laughed bashfully. "I-I would like to think we're past professional terms, though that doesn't mean I can't be polite to this fine young woman here." He took Gita's other hand and kissed it. "Le bonheur est souvent la seule chose qu'on puisse donner sans l'avoir, et c'est en le donnant qu'on l'acquiert." He spoke with eloquent pronunciation, an accent as though the language were his mother tongue.

The woman found herself even more flustered, now wrapping herself around and giggled like a little girl. "W-well well well—! I run the flower shop. Down the road!"  
Rani rolled her eyes.  
"Y-you can drop by any time! I'll be there." Gita took another step forward, near to treading on the man's toes. "I'll be waiting."  
"Mum-"  
"B-Because I work there, at the flower shop, no, no not because I'm waiting around for you, I mean, I work there, you know? But nonononono, oh god, oh heaven Lord, Christ above, I would love to see you drop b-"  
"Mum."  
"'Bloomin' Lovely."

Gita handed Smithy a business card and winked. "I can get your carnations half price."  
The man raised an eyebrow.  
At that notion, Gita swiftly took this chance to leave, waving back more than a few times with the same ecstatic smile, almost tripping on the curb, before entering the house opposite.  
Rani flashed him a serious look. "If you start tangling your wires around me Mum, I'm never coming out of my room again."

When dusk began to settle, so did the excitement from the first hours.

They bid Luke a farewell on the doorstep, and Clyde decided at the moment it were about time he headed home to lend a hand with the evening meal. Rani was sat with Sky, helping her out with an English paper.

An exhausted Sarah Jane would have sat with them also, were it not for the newspapers and print-outs she'd assigned herself to study in time for an end of week deadline. However, current events were working well in frazzling her - not to mention her printer was now exhausted of ink from a stream of numerical data flooding all sheets she had previously stored, said to derive from UNIT itself, however being indecipherable by her son when she rung him up and enquired about it, never mind her alone.  
Defeated, the woman reached into the biscuit tin, feeling for a custard cream-

"Naughty! NaU—GHTY–"

-and jumped, startled, turning toward from whence the proclamation had arisen.

Smithy, peeking through a crack in the door. He wore an elegant pair of silk baby blue pyjamas, which alike Sarah Jane's clothes, fit noticeably loose.

"There are sixty two calories in an average custard cream," he told her. "Which isn't a lot, until we consider the fact you've eaten double your weight in them over the past twenty four hours."  
"Since when did you go from being an extraterrestrial supercomputer to my personal calorific diary?" Sarah Jane asked cynically as she flicked a page of the newspaper.  
"Now wouldn't that have been a terrible investment," Smithy replied with a sheepish smile, and carefully stepped in through the dark. His eyes found the twinkle of stars outside. The smile on his face softened further. "I'm still in awe, Sarah Jane, I-I'm sorry, this is just-" He traced his finger across the window, and looking up from her work, Sarah Jane noticed he were aligning the constellations. "Did I mention everything is so much more vibrant?" he asked her gently.  
Sarah Jane closed the newspaper and placed a hand on the kitchen surface. "Yes, you did," she replied.

"S-sarah Jane."

The man found himself wriggling awkwardly.  
Said woman tilted her head. "What is it, Mr Smith?"  
Smithy hesitated for a moment. "Look at me."  
She did so and froze.  
"All the years we've been working together, Sarah Jane, I knew you were a remarkable lady," he began, and aware this woman were now listening to him intently, he found his eyelashes fluttering away from her. "But now - well. Seeing you in a whole new light ... in a nutshell ..."

The man slid across the floor with his tank as though they were on an ice rink.

"Ding dong!"

His confidence strengthened by her laughter, Smithy took Sarah Jane's hand into his and spun her around before sweeping for the door.

"When the sun hits the sky like a big pizza pie tha–t's amore—!"

The last note continued down the hall.

And at that, Sarah Jane found the mirror and squeaked at a red faced, large eyed woman staring back.

The night drew in quickly. The moon was low, the clouds dissipated, stars twinkling like fairy lights sewn into a blanket.  
Sky was tasked with putting the recent arrival to sleep. She carefully removed Smithy's glasses and pulled the tubes out of his nose.

"Mum said you won't be needing these!" The girl giggled, and wheeled the tank behind the bedside cabinet.  
Smithy sighed with relief. "Thank goodness." There was something in his posture which suggested there was something else on his mind, and being the curiously minded individual she was, Sky couldn't help but find out what could possibly be different. "What's the matter?"

She watched as Smithy's pupils shrunk. He collapsed against the headboard. There was an interval between their dialogue, before he unexpectedly launched forward and grasped at one of the girl's shoulders.

"Do you think I'll be capable of sleep, Sky?" he pressed her anxiously. "If I am, will I be able to dream? I might be like Luke, I might not have the capability to fabricate dreams. Then what am I to do? How can you shut off thought if you're left alone with yourself? Does it just happen?"

Sky took a moment to register this sudden outburst, after which, she decided it were to be met with a laugh. "Usually, I'm the one asking you the questions!" The girl paused taking some time to think. "Okay. Well, it took me a while, too! I just kind of - shut my eyes, and thought about things the which made me feel 'happy and safe!' You could either do that, or you could simply j-"

However, her lecture was prematurely ended by the intervening of a loud snore.

"Oh, you did it? You did it! You see? Better than me, at that! I guess I should say Goodnight, Smithy!"

Sky sprung from the bed, halting though suddenly as she felt for something resting in her top pockets. Finding it, the girl carefully removed the same tulip Smithy had plucked from Sarah Jane's vase that morning, and memorising how Rani had done so, laced it through his hair as he continued drifting off into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello! WAU here - my confidence writing is very low seeing as this is my first attempt in quite some time. Please don't be shy to drop me a review (even just one word) if you liked anything or even simply click to favourite! Any support means absolute masses to me; I hope this doesn't appear desperate, thank you so much for keeping with me. Anyway, onwards!

Rest was - _arguably_ \- well had until both Sarah Jane and Sky were roused by an incoherent yelling for the third time over the course of the past eight hours.

The younger headed downstairs to see what she wanted for breakfast. The eldest stood outside the bedroom from whence the noise had arisen, waiting.

The door creaked open at half past ten.  
"So, what were you watching?" Sarah Jane asked.  
The man entering the landing could have jolted out of his skin.  
She folded her arms. "It must have been important if you woke us up at 1, 5 and 9 the morning!"  
Smithy frowned. "Watch...ing...?" His eyes widened in realisation. "Ah! Infant Penguins and Their Mothers: A Documentary. Was it Infant Penguins? Yes. Yes, yes it was-" He nodded seriously. "Someone tried to take control of the remote. As soon as I see them, I'm certainly going to give them a piece of my mind. Y-"  
"Your meal plan is on the fridge," Sarah Jane cut him off with an amused tut as she climbed the stairs to the attic, making sure not to forget playfully slipping in "You do realise it's just a dream don't you, Mr Smith?!"

But he'd already found the kitchen.  
"Good morning, Sky."  
Sky looked up from her bowl of cereal. "Good morning, Smithy!" she replied through a mouthful, watching as the man entered and freed a sheet of paper from beneath one of the fridge magnets.  
Smithy narrowed his eyes, skimming the text quickly. "Breakfast: x3 Cornflakes with semi-skimmed milk. 500ml, Orange juice. A full cream yogurt-" He slammed the paper onto the table, making Sky jump. "I wasn't even asked about this!"  
"Mum said you needed to eat," the girl told him before scooping up her bowl and drinking the milk left over at the bottom. "You're too skinny. Apparently we were lucky to get you out of the hospital as early as we did!"  
"They could have at least asked me for my preferences." Smithy shuddered. "Cornflakes are so _plain_. I _don't_ like the bits in yogurt, _or orange juice_ for that matter. The textures are somewhat _...slimy_." It was at that moment the man spied a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts sitting appetisingly beside the hob, most likely those remaining from when Clyde visited the Smiths during the time he was in hospital.

"There are doughnuts still."  
"There are," Sky confirmed.  
"They haven't passed their sell by date."  
"Not for another day or two."  
Smithy opened the box. "There's no such thing as bad food when you're starving," he snorted, reaching for the Strawberry Gloss.  
Sky watched as he snatched those remaining onto a recently clean plate from the sink.  
"You're going to be sick!" she cried.  
"I'm an adult, my dear." Smithy twirled a Nutty Chocolatta around his finger. "I make the decisions."  
The girl cocked her neck to get a closer look at his face. "How old are you in Xylok years?"  
He spat out the bite of an Original Glazed. " _Xylok_ years?"  
"Mmhmm!" Sky took her bowl to the sink. "Rani told me dogs go by doggy years. She said her dog died when he was _ninety-nine_! And I couldn't help but wonder 'ninety-nine?' to which she then went on, 'well, he was actually thirteen, but there's ten and a half doggy years for every human year until two have gone by, and four doggy years after that. Clyde told me you're _very_ old. I didn't know whether or not you had a system which went the other way, where you're younge-"  
" _You're comparing me to a dog._ " Smithy narrowed his eyes at her, swallowing half a Glazed Raspberry whole. "I thought so much better of you. That's the _worst_."  
Sky's lower lip quivered.  
He laughed, squeezing her cheek. "I'm joking, my dear. A dog, now, there _is_ certainly a lot to be said about dogs-"

A rather loud grumbling intervened suddenly.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sky asked.  
Smithy's eyebrows creased, as he clasped both hands over his mouth. "Y-yes! Yes, I-" His eyes bulged alarmingly. "J-just have to do a - human thing - quite quickly!"

With that, he headed out of the kitchen as fast as his body allowed.  
The sound of retching could soon be heard from the toilet next door.

Sky cringed, assigned herself to the washing up. "Am I glad I'm not eating," she mumbled sadly to the dishes.

0o0

"Twenty four hours have passed since Mr Smith's discharge and the release of those papers; a week has passed since all of this started happening," Sarah Jane announced later on that morning when her and the others were met in the attic, biting the tops of her thumbs in frustration and pacing back and forth her workspace. "Yet, we still don't have any leads as to what's going on!" She halted abruptly. "Oh, actually, I forgot to mention last night, Mr Smith—" The woman began fumbling about her desk. "What can you make out of these?"  
Smithy bookmarked Matt Haig's The Humans and headed over. He furrowed his eyebrows as the woman handed him a file, fixing his glasses and beginning to read, licking a finger and flicking through the pages.  
"They're apparently from UNIT," Sarah Jane continued. "Whilst you were out galavanting yesterday _I_ was meanwhile out fetching another cartridge."  
Smithy shut his eyes, lifting the lids again only once he was sure he'd sorted through the entirety of his thoughts. "You can definitely tell this is someone - or something - trying to communicate." He folded his free arm. "I'm unfamiliar with the language, however. There are parts missing, parts added... It doesn't follow the rules of any known conduct, either. This comes across as rather postmodern."  
"Hold on. So if you know of it-"  
"Now I know what you're about to imply there, and _I'm not saying that_." Smithy carefully slid the file back onto the desk. "But I would keep a hold of it."

To that, Rani bolted through the attic door.  
"Sorry I'm late! I was finishing a section of my portfolio." Her face was pale. "Mum's invited us over later."  
"What's the occasion?"  
"Dad's away on vacation." From the exchanged look of concern the others gave her, she realised it must have been difficult to conceal how on edge she felt. "And Clyde, your Mum's invited as well."

0o0

The decoration outside Number 12 the last few hours of the afternoon was rather concerning. The window was twinkling with fairylights, a banner strapped across the pane, another two in a cross along the door. Balloons hung from the drain.

The words haunted Rani.  
 _Your dad and I met in a museum. It was raining._  
The despair which crawled onto her mother's face.  
 _Bloomin' Lovely. I can get your carnations half price._  
The juxtaposing hope.  
She cringed.  
"Is something the matter, Rani?" Sarah Jane asked, snapping the girl out of her trance.  
Rani wiped the sweat from her brow. "I think our house has caught the flue," she exasperated, and realising what she'd meant, Sarah Jane actually laughed.  
"That was quite the _brick joke_ there."  
Mutual laughter.

Said previous _flue_ , never one for discreet entrances, then proceeded to, quite frankly, _sweep_ into the living room. His attire consisted of a gorgeous yellow dress, a matching floppy hat, belt of encrusted diamonds and open heels.

The others cast their eyes with genuine surprise.  
"You wear that look better than my art teacher!" Clyde cried out - suddenly wishing for the floor to swallow him up not that long after.  
Rani shot the boy a glare, but gave the man a reassuring nod of approval before pulling Clyde over to greet her mother, who'd just entered the room.  
Swapping over from the two, Sarah Jane took this opportunity to walk over. "Why is it, that-" she began to say. The woman straightened her back. "Why is it, that, everything you do, it just, well, you could just-"  
The man turned to the sound of her voice, tilting his head forward slightly, causing his hair to tumble before his shoulders. "Could just...?" he carried on, eyes twinkling interestedly as both hands clutched at a Tropical Ribena, the tips of his golden nails rattling against the carton as his lips delicately touched the straw.  
Sarah Jane gripped at her elbows and spun away, biting her own lip. "You could certainly model for postcards," she dropped quietly.

"Everybody! Everyone!"

Gita waved her hands in the air, yelling to gather her guests' attention. "Thank you so, _so_ much for coming over tonight! I've had such a busy week at work, I just needed to see you all. W-well!?" Laughing nervously, she scuttled past them, reaching for the docking station her iPod was lodged into. After pressing a few buttons, The Hustle began to play from the speakers. "Dance, already!" she roared through the noise, and started reenacting the choreography.  
Sarah Jane and Smithy stood close watching the others awkwardly.

"Wait!"  
It wasn't long before Gita noticed them sticking out like sore thumbs at the back of the room. "You've never done The Hustle before?" she asked, pacing forward with the music.  
Sarah Jane was about to speak, but Smithy was already prepared with her words.  
"I know of The Hustle; I've just never been to any parties where I can take part in it."  
The woman nodded severely.  
Gita's eyes might have fallen out from their sockets. "Are you two _serious_?!" She clasped her hands together. "I'm going to have to teach you both, aren't I? We can't have that, not here! A-and then you can dance together, I mean, if you'd like to, I'm sure you'll be great, Sarah! I'm sure you'll be a _natural_ , Smithy!"  
"Sarah _Jane_ ," the other woman corrected.  
"Sarah," Gita said again, and proceeded to teach the steps.

Still robotic in her movements after a few minutes had gone by, it became quite clear Sarah Jane was unsure in the party setting.  
Smithy watched her carefully, breaking out of his pose and and joining her side. "Like this," he told her gently, and begun to move his hands towards her hips. He felt his body go stiff, and a stiff aura from the woman in front; a burning sensation stung his entire stature. He recoiled suddenly.  
"A-are you alright?" Sarah Jane asked.  
"Are y-you?" Smithy refuted the question.  
Gita looked after and laughed. "C-come here, I can help you b-"  
"W-we can do it ourselves, thank you!" the two replied in chorus, raising their hands up as if to also say 'no thank you.'  
"We'll watch your lead!" Sarah Jane added. She turned to face her partner. "S-so! You were saying... How?"  
A flurried number of thoughts entered Smithy's head at once. He felt his body begin to quiver like jelly.  
Seeing the smile dancing across her lips however, he warmed, chuckled and positioned her hips with cheeks flushed scarlet.

"I... think I need to use the bog." Meanwhile, Clyde hastily removed himself from his seat. "'Shouldn't be too long." He cringed looking over at the adults. "Should it...?"  
Rani jumped out of her own chair in response. "Oioioioioi you can't just leave me here, that's not fai-"  
But he'd already bounded for the landing.

"R-Rani?"

She spun round. "What is it, Sky?" There was a note of concern in the younger girl's expression. She'd had almost forgotten they'd brought her along she were so quiet.  
Sky thumbled about her jacket pocket. She found her phone and unlocked it urgently. "Isn't this similar to the pattern which appears on Mr Smith's screen?"  
Rani moved the girl's hand so she could see the phone up closer. "...Kind of?" The pattern were less fluid, more geometric and widespread with pastel tints of green, blue, purple and pink.  
"And whenever I try t-" Sky continued. She tapped the home button. An array of arithmetical sequences filled the screen.

The girl waited apprehensively for a response from her older friend.

It was a fast one. "Like the printer!" Rani's eyes widened. "Could someone from U.N.I.T really be trying to contact us? But how would they get your number? Why yours?" She whipped out her own phone and compared the screens. "Mine's fine - and the whole screensaver? What's that for?"  
"I guess Xyloks are sensitive to technology," Sky suggested. "And Clyde always calls me a powerhouse. It could be that!" She eyed the dancing adults for a split second and shuffled closer to the older girl. "I don't feel very well."  
"Don't worry, neither do I."

Clyde fell back into his chair, arms behind his head and a goofy grin on his face. "So, what have I missed?" he asked a displeased Rani next to him, his question answered when he found the new sight which lay before them and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh god, they're at it alright. I thought Smithy wasn't allowed to drink?"  
"That's the worst part." Rani lowered her head to the floor. "He's completely sober."

 **Everyday I hear a different story  
People saying that you're no good for me**  
 **'Saw your lover with another and she's making a fool out of you'**

Smithy was now spinning Sarah Jane and Gita around, bringing them towards him and taking turns releasing them.

Sky watched the two worriedly and shrunk her shoulders in defeat, having another go with the mobile on her own.  
Clyde grinned. "I'm sure a glass of wine won't hurt him."  
"Don't you dare!" Rani snapped back, though it were evident she tried not to laugh in the way she spoke.

 **But you know that I'll forgive you  
Just this once, twice, forever**

Gita parted from the group to get a drink, face scarlet, and as though the stars were watching them, the disco light cast upon the two dancers left.  
Smithy allowed Sarah Jane the position in charge, the woman circling him in time with the rhythm. He traced her footsteps.

The duet were in sync.

 **'Cause baby, you could drag me to hell and back  
Just as long as we're together**

Sarah Jane then begun to shimmy backwards, and the man took this as a cue to move forward, the two of carefully tapping the floor lightly in a delicate walk. Following this, she found herself a seat at the table, joining Gita, gesturing towards the water and bidding Smithy the sole limelight central room.

He nodded, scooting forward.  
All eyes were upon him.  
He was hesitant at first, beginning to swivel slightly on his feet and get an idea of where his arms wanted to point, toes wanted to tip. It was then that he allowed the music to take him away, until—

 **I don't need your freedom  
Girl, all I want right now is—**

"You're Smithy?"  
Said man abruptly stopped and spun, without intention dramatically, on his heel.

There stood a dark-skinned woman with a gentle smile and warm brown eyes. Her hair was done up in a ponytail, complete with a headband of Autumn colours which matched her dress. She turned to the others, who smiled in acknowledgement and greeting. "Where're my manners?! I was waiting on the tumble dryer. I'm sorry I'm late!"

Following her entrance, she resumed the conversation, stepping further into the room.  
Smithy felt a tightening in his chest, as though he were shrinking, awkwardly scratching the back of his head and letting out a broken laugh of embarrassment. "W-well," he started.  
The woman's smile didn't waver. She waited patiently.  
He felt his nerves ease to her kindness. "As you could probably tell, I've never danced in my entire life; but this-" The man posed with jazz hands. " _This_ is Smithy."  
The woman smirked and held out her hand. "Carla. Clyde's Mum?"  
"I've heard plenty."

 **It seems a little time is needed  
Decisions to be made**  
 **The good advice of friends unheeded**  
 **The best of plans mislaid**

"This song is so old." Clyde gave Rani a funny look. "These _people_ are so _old_."  
"Okay, but-" Rani nudged him, pointing to the alcohol on the table. "That just means there's more of that for us."

"I don't mean to, ah, blow my trumpet, but-" Smithy outstretched his hand. "Despite this being my first night out, I'm feeling pretty lucky tonight."  
"But I can't dance for toffees!" Carla cried.  
"Then thank _goodness_ you're dancing for us instead."

 **Just looking for a new direction  
In an old familiar way**  
 **The forming of a new connection**  
 **To study or to play**

"Are you alright, Sparky?"  
Head buried in her knees, the younger girl shook her head. A muffled sulking could heard; she wasn't going to be looking up anytime soon.  
Clyde checked if the close was clear, snatching the Sourz from the table when he saw the adults were occupied with one another and three shot glasses. He clinged them together with a cheesy grin in a failed attempt to get the younger's attention.  
Rani bumped his shoulder angrily. "Clyde! She's TWELVE."  
"Good point." Clyde placed one of the shot glasses back onto the table and poured the liquor into the other two. "Well then, more for us." He poked Sky playfully. "Fruit Shoot on me when you're next home from school." A little too desperately holding his glass, Clyde laced the fingers of his other hand around Rani's, and in an ominously sounding mantra, chanted: "I drink, I drink to forget-"  
The expression on his face then twisted in horror.

" _ **Mr Smith grinding on all three of our mothers**_."

"W-what?!" It was right there and then that Rani lay her own eyes on what was before them for a millisecond before hastily snatching the other shot glass and knocking down her units.

 **Keep feeling fascination  
Passion burning**  
 **Love so strong**

"Y-you sure have an eye for the ladies, don't you?" Gita told Smithy, trying to whisper but her voice crescendoing with every word.  
"Y-Yes," Sarah Jane joined in. "You do quite, don't you?"  
Smithy batted his hand gently. "I'm actually _very exclusive_." He leaned forward. "Where I come from, the women are _ruthless_."  
"Where _did_ you come from?" Carla asked him.  
Smithy froze. A clever smile surfaced to his lips. "You mustn't tell anyone, my newly befriended, because it could stir up quite, _quite_ the story." He poured three glasses of Blossom Hill Rosé and offered one to each of them. "As I told you during our first meeting, Gita, most of my work was done at a computer, and I so wish I could say I went abroad - however, truth to be told, Carla, it could be said I have spent many years, working so hard, so very, _very_ hard, in The _Xylok Islands_."  
Sarah Jane tried not to snort.  
Smithy placed his hands under his chin with a cheesy grin. "But now it's time to party!"  
Carla and Gita rose their drinks into the air, cheering.  
Sarah Jane staggered over to Clyde. "Are you sure he hasn't had anything to drink?"  
"He doesn't seem to be suffering," Clyde muttered. "Not like us in the morning."  
Eavesdropping, Smithy raised an eyebrow at the two. "You haven't seen the best part yet," he told them. The man faced the ladies again. "I'll return right back! Don't miss me too much. I left something in the hall." He sashayed out and back again with a hand behind his back. "Sarah Jane! I have graced you with my presence for oh so long now. Gita - you have received a kiss on the hand. Carla-"

Smithy brought out a carnation of orange roses. "Clyde told me you love to cook - but I do hope you have room on the window of that that kitchen of yours."

Carla cupped her hands over her mouth in surprise. "God! Bless you?" She embraced bouquet with an overjoyed squeal. "Of course I have room! Thank you! Thank you!"  
Clyde tapped Rani repeatedly, his mother's grin contagious. "Okay that's actually pretty neat," he told the girl excitedly.  
She turned round and actually clasped her hands on one of his shoulders.

0o0

Another dusk settled. They bid the Chandras farewell and began filtering out into the streets and opposite houses.

"When the moon falls from the sky or you catch a Gorgon's eye, just call Smithy..." The man sung lowly, slumping into bed and making himself comfortable.  
Before the knock at the door.  
"Hullo?"  
A much soberer Sarah Jane slipped through the gap and joined his side, waiting for him to remove his glasses. "I really enjoyed myself tonight." Unsure whether or not it was to herself or her recipient, she nevertheless nodded in assertion. "It was lovely, I think, for everyone to loosen their shells a little. Oh, _oh_ , come here." Sarah Jane gestured Smithy forward, unwinding the tubing from his ears and carefully pulling the cannula from his nose.

"You're very worried, aren't you?"

Sarah Jane hesitated. "Sorry?"  
"I can sense it," Smithy suspired a hint of concern himself. "You've done nothing but shake like a leaf throughout all of this. For - however many and whatever reasons there might be." He caressed an arm anxiously. "How long have I known you; ten years? How many restless nights and bad dreams have you ventured upstairs to see me until the crack of dawn?"  
"Ten years, _yes_ \- and far too many to count." Sarah Jane leaned closer. "Since I've known _you_ as well, don't forget, and you've talked back, which that is precisely why I'm so delighted to see you happy."  
"You are a remarkable person, Sarah Jane," Smithy told her softly. "Your dedication - the lives you've saved - I can really appreciate that now." He lifted his head. "It's astounding."  
"But I couldn't have done it without you."  
They stared into each other's eyes just for a moment, closing them, moving towards each other with necks tilted slightly, and-

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM! MY NIGHT LIGHT BROKE AGAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!"  
"W-Well!" Sarah Jane rose suddenly from beside him. "I guess I should be saying Good night, Mr Smith!" She lifted her shoulders slightly and beamed, singing gently as she walked out backwards towards the hall, "When a Veil takes your form or the rakweed doth spawn just call Smithy..."

Smithy watched as her silhouette disappeared across the landing. With a cheek aching smile, he closed his eyes and began to sink below quilt. That was until the stinging sensation worked it's way from his chest to his throat.

He hacked violently.  
Red liquid splattered onto the duvet.


	5. Chapter 5

Smithy rotated his wrist carefully, watching the viscous matter as it trickled down from his palm, like the flooding compartment of a small garden ornament, to just above his elbow.

There was then a crackling followed by an excruciating pain in his left arm.

Outlining the man's hand, were an assortment of bulging and shrinking red numbers working in an attempt to equate the current circumstance. This circumstance - though temporarily understood - was since concluded to have been due rejection, as the skin started to break out into a grotesquely beautiful cluster of what looked like Clear Quartz, scarlet liquid drying along the edges.

His face twisted in horror. Another tickle entered his throat; releasing it, the man felt a burning in his chest and a dripping down his chin.  
He lifted his finger towards the sensation.  
What had caused it were the same as the fluid surfacing from his hand.

Smithy wheezed again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

The fluid continued to spit and spill from his mouth, leaving trail marks from his neck and splatters onto the quilts.

The others were asleep.  
He couldn't move.  
There was nothing he could do to stop it.

He coughed again.

And again.

Again.

Again.

And agai-

"Oh no you don't!"

Suddenly, Smithy felt a tiny sting - a thin object penetrating the scarce flesh beneath his shoulder blade.

He spat out a final mouthful of blood and spun his head quickly.

A silhouette stood shakily next to the wardrobe. It belonged to that of a rather portly man, wearing a long sleeved waistcoat and black gloves to go with his nylons and leather shoes. The mask was a dead giveaway despite the cloaking nature of the surrounding darkness; a golden plate covered his face and transparent orange plates concealed the finer details of his eyes from view. The lone facial feature you could make out through it were his lips, curled in distraught.

"You've gotta help me mate, I'm stranded!"

Smithy let out a small, surprised yelp. "A-and just who are y-" He was about to cry out in shock, before-

"MR SMITH!"

-Sarah Jane busted through the door. "Are you o- oh God, oh god oh god-" Her face turned pale. "I'll get some tissues from the bathroom, just - stay there!"  
"Sa-" Smithy could feel his eyes bulging as he tried to get a better look at the intruder.  
He went to pick up his glasses. Reaching out his arm, the man realised the skin had been repaired as though nothing had happened.  
The stranger waved his hands out infront of him in a gesture that suggested he was desperate for Smithy's attention. "She can't hear me. She can't see me. Only you can!" he whispered.

"It's alright!"

Sarah Jane hurriedly re-entered the room, turning Smithy towards her as she sat him down on the bed beside her. "We've ran out, but I'm always stocked up on kitchen roll."  
Smithy watched the woman bath the blood drying against his skin. There was something about that look of concentration on her face which made his heart feel warm.  
"I, ah ... well. This... usually happens when I'm about to sneeze," he told her. The man managed a smile. "There's nothing for you to worry about."  
They gazed at each other for a short while, before Sarah Jane hugged him tightly.  
"Everything's going to be alright," she sighed. "It's all going to be fine." And she kept repeating that to herself as she walked out.

"Hey, urm-"

Smithy turned again.

The stranger swaggered towards him and pulled what was now revealed to have been a needle from his back.

"Owch!"

The intruder scratched the back of his head with a crooked smile. "That's you, you're good as new!" He outstretched his free hand. "'Name's Ozmo. Nice t' finally meetcha."  
Smithy went to shake it hesitantly - understanding too late this man had the potential to tear his arm right out of the socket.  
The former widened his eyes in both terror and sudden realisation at another matter. "Hold on, was that-"  
"Mutagen! Mutagen, yes!"  
Ozmo raised his hands in enthusiasm. "Don't worry, I've got you completely covered!"

He parted his coat to reveal pockets storing syringes coming in all shapes and sizes - not just for mutagen, but for many different chemicals, quite literally, found otherwise out of this world. "Who'd you think was behind this whole shebang? You don't mind an Early Spoiler, do you? Me; I did it. The reason you're human right now is because I've exposed you to enough Mutagen which would allow it."  
This brought to mind several questions. "Did you write out the documents as well?" Smithy then asked.  
Ozmo folded his arms and tapped the index finger of his left hand against the cufflink of his right sleeve. "Documents?"  
"Are you sending the faxes?"  
"Ahh now, hold on, matey-" The respondent started scratching his nose. "Documents? Faxes? I don't know about you, but I don't see myself as the kind of person who'd be capable of doing a job the likes of that - and I'm really not! No offence - God, this the wrong species to be saying this too - but Jack and Christ, I couldn't get on with a computer if it meant I'd be saving my life. Listen, mate." Ozmo leaned in close. "'ere, you're seeing me because you're the only one I've - somehow - managed to tune in this hologram for. I ain't got any wish to be dissected by the primitives of a level five planet, and you're the only one with the brains who can help me leave Earth!" He tapped his nose. "T'ankfully, I am a man geared towards business, and I have worked with a few Xylok service users somewhere along the Krustoloss Cosmic Cluster. They haven't contacted me in Donkey's years though. However! They did stock me up on decades supplies of Mutagen, an' you being a Xylok, you'll know this is a genuine batch, enough to give you the body you'd need to complete this task."

The man straightened out his waistcoat. "You can become a Xylok again after."

There was no response.

"Ey? What's eating you, Gilbert Grape?"

Smithy was about to speak, but faltered — and lowered his gaze. "I'm going to have to say, I'm awfully - awfully grateful to you!" The man then went to clasp at the passerby's shoulders, before realising he were merely represented by a hologram and pulled himself away awkwardly, though without losing his vigour. "I don't think I've felt this delighted since before recorded time! You have to understand, I'm-" He exhaled deeply. "I think people are tiring very quickly, as I point out how wonderful everything is, how I can truly appreciate my surroundings and the people; they're all made of the same things but they're all so unique! I don't think anyone understands how it feels to view things... with an autobiographical deficit. Now, however, everything has changed-!"

Smithy lifted his head slightly, a sliver of hair flying out infront of him. "Even if it is only for a short while longer, I must experience more of what it's like to be human!"

Whilst it was hard to tell, Ozmo's eyes had most likely shone in excitement. "That works out fantastic for me, then! The both of us. I can certainly get you a stabiliser." Relieved, he rubbed his hands together. "But come on, humans, they're thick as two short Graskes. You're a genius!" The man narrowed his eyes. "'Course, like I said, I'm going to need you to do me this here favour before I can get you that stabiliser. If that's one thing I've learnt from working with you guys, yes - you love using your smarts. You love being sneaky. I ain't the brightest crayon in the box, I'll admit, but come on, surely, that means you gotta go easy on me!" He rubbed his chin. "Y'know the National Museum, five miles away? 'Course you, do why am I askin', and you of all people - any way! My teleporter matter relay broke on a routine jump from Alvar to Krulka 3. There's a replacement relay, mislabelled as a Mayan artefact for some reason or another in there. Y' think you can get it? Switch off the security seal on the stone and bring it t' me, a'... Urm... Redders Way. The rotten warehouse? If you bring up a map, you'll know where I'm talking."  
Smithy frowned. "Whilst I'm not opposed to how these circumstances have panned out, I still have my reservations." He flicked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Why couldn't you just ask Sarah Jane for help?"  
"Mm'kay well, you see, I'm sure you'll un'erstand, I've been... Implicated in a bit of ducking and a-diving, wheeling and a-dealing—"

Ozmo's expression went flat. "Basically, your bird might grass me to the law."  
"I see."  
"Which also means I can't get the artefact myself. My fingerprints would attract the galactic police. Have you seen them, they've got horns, they've got horns like this-" He pointed the tips of his fingers together and placed his hands over his nose. "And they speak like this, hear, they go 'Blo! Ro Ro! Flo! So! To! Plo! Zo! Mo! Plo-!"  
Smithy would have laughed if he weren't so unsure of the stranger's intentions.

There was no time for an argument however - another crackling emerging when the man moved his hand.  
Reluctantly, he accepted the stranger's task, who clapped his hands together like a seal. "Good man! Good man."

With that, the alien flickered away.

OoO

Smithy had given himself an hour.

After changing out of his pyjamas and into the same clothes he wore to the party, the man crept downstairs, taking the keys from the kitchen table allowing him to open the door, releasing him into the night.

Artemis had struck her bow across the sky, striking the damn to set forth a navy blue sea of rippling constellations. Smithy felt the harsh wind through the frills of his dress, which caressed his ankles as he walked. The wheels of the man's tank rolled over the concrete wet from rainfall, creating a sound as though children were drawing on it instead with chalk.

It wasn't a long walk away.  
He made sure the stairs weren't making themselves present a common enemy, taking his time with them; as he reached for the security pad next to the door, the man was quick to sort through the possible combination and almost immediately decoded the lock.

Hat pulled down over his eyes, Smithy slipped through the shadows of the museum and reached for the case containing the relay. His fingers began to blur over the panel next to it, before -

"'Alright?"

He jolted.

Hard boots slammed against the floor. "My office is further on." The voice was rather deep, though with a slight femininity. "I'm guessing that's where you were heading. I can't think of another reason for why you'd be here. Closing time? Hours ago. So, standard procedure!" There was the click of a gun. "I'm going to need you to put your hands in the air."

Smithy did as he was asked.

The smacking of heels again.  
He didn't turn around.

"That? They dug that up a well long time ago! Isn't it lovely?"

This woman must really need the support in her footwear changed.

"You're trying to steal it, aren't you?"

There was the sound of machinery whirring, which caused Smithy to turn his head.

There stood a rather young woman with dark skin and hair tumbling down to her hips. She was wearing a uniform he'd seen and heard soldiers wear too many times in photographs, documents containing these and illustrations created for him through hearing the accounts of others; a black polo shirt layered with a jacket, red beret rested on her head.

Seemingly strapped to her shoulders like a rucksack was a strange contraption consisting of a monitor, two cameras and a set of three small control panels drilled onto compartments - likely containing arsenals of weaponry.

But this is only what led to the thing which caught Smithy's attention the most.

"I really hope not, otherwise, they'd be right about what they say, wouldn't they?" A glitch appeared across the woman's face. "They say if you're to trust one of us, you must have plans for suicide - it would show there's no foundations of integrity even between ourselves."

The woman was just a projection.  
He was talking to the crystal pulsing gently above her chest.


	6. Chapter 6

" _ **You're a Xylok.**_ "

The woman cocked her head, the machine cocking it's monitor. She leaned in as though she were leaning into another person, and in an exclamation arising from a failed whisper, told it "By George, I think he's got it!" under a hand shielding her mouth.

As Mr Smith, he'd never encountered a blue screen of death, and the man found it ironic the equivalent were blinding his thought as Smithy. He found himself staggering backwards, but the woman seemed to consider possibilities in advance and fired a containment vortex.

Startled, the man smacked his hands into the barrier. He felt his voice rise without intention, crying out: "I wasn't going t-!"

"-Try and get away?" The woman laughed, cutting him short. "Your heart rate has increased, your sympathetic nervous system is activated through an underlying release of adrenaline managed by your adrenal medulla. Fight or flight, and neither of those'd benefit either of us, so I had to be sure."

Smithy frowned. "D-did you just scan me?" he asked anxiously.

The woman dismissed the question and continued. "You most likely have a few questions; I do myself, but I doubt I'll get anything out of you unless I explain myself first."

She positioned a hand over her chest and bent forward in greeting. "I'm Serafeim - Miss Allstar if you'd prefer to call me by me Chassis or converse formally. You don't need to worry too much about a basic introduction, I've already conducted a little analysis - _Smitty._ I'm 61 years old - that's with six zeros; actually, pardon a sudden tangent, but can you _believe_ that?" The woman rose slightly. "Those who inhabit this planet have such a needlessly complicated numerical system, don't they? When customising my Projection, I decided to translate me age to equate to that of someone living on Earth and how I'd look as a result. Apparently, I'm the equivalent to a 25 year old, and that's a young adult!? I'm not even going to ask, but-"

That's when he saw it. Smithy immediately raised a finger in an attempt to intervene, but the man would very soon learn any such trial would be proved immensely fortunate when met with success.

"What else, what else? Oh, well, my favourite colour is silver." The projection began frogmarching across the hall, the hovering crystal with the machine attached pulling the strings and following very close behind. "The flowers I find beautiful here, and they're at the top when it comes to botanic planetary exploration, are tulips."

He tried again. "Sorry-"

"Leopards are the terrestrial animals I adore the most. When I was exploring, I travelled far and wide with them. They even waited for me when I couldn't catch up, but I suppose it's why I'm able to speeeeed across land how I can now. Ahh, ohhhh ohhhhh!" The Chassis screen practically leaked neon pigments in excitement. "Summer, Summer'd have to be Earth's most wonderful season, don't you think? I don't think I'm ever going to get used to such an otherwise colder climat-an' oh, ohhhhhhh! I've always wanted to settle down on one of The Canary Isla-"

"Miss Allstar."

Serafeim halted.

Smithy laced his fingers together. "You're a working prisoner aren't you? See, I couldn't help noticing." He pointed then to the neck of the contraption's monitor. "That's a tracking device, isn't it?"

The colours froze in place.

The woman sighed. "Well spotted." Her eyes cast upon the ground; the monitor lifted it's neck and moved forward to give the illusion it were trying to follow where she was looking (when really, we know the projection was replicating what the machine wanted to do). "I'm currently working for UNIT. A geologist found me on the coast of Java. They shipped me to a retired worker from the task force, who nevertheless thought it right to forward me onto them after realising I was alien and could be used to help them out."

She collapsed her arms to her side. "You could say it's slave labour, it's against my own will. But I'm sure you understand, when you're given a purpose and an opportunity rolls in to tackle it head on, you have to cease the moment.

Mine, as you could conclude independent of my self disclosure, is using my skills in combat to fill the role of a bodyguard. I'm looking after this museum from extraterrestrial threats as a result. Therefore, if you're trying to steal that Mayan artefact, I'm afraid you've got another thing coming."

Serafeim shut her eyes, the machine creating a low, sad tone. "I haven't spoken to another Xylok in 127 years nearly. I hadn't spoken to another _person_ for 123. It was so lonely. Which is why I've gotten so used to talking to my own Chassis. God, you must think me terrible - worse than those men who murder women in popular media and sit their bodies around the table for tea!

A woman called in a few days ago though, saying she was looking after a Xylok using mutagen. I tried everything to get in contact with you. I'm dreadfully sorry if I ended up being a nuisance. I played about with files, tampered with phones and printers within your proximity-"

Smithy's eyes widened. "So it was you?"

"Of course it was me!" Serafeim stood firmly with her arms collapsed beside her and fists clenched. "But you didn't _respond!"_

"Well, Miss Allstar, you must learn traditional linguistic means of communication. You see, I'm a lot older than I look, and it where the equivalent of reading my dear friend's daughter's mock exams." Smithy exhaled. "Anyway, this isn't a Mayan artefact you're looking after. It's a relay, and I have to take it. You have access to more than substantial mutagen; how could you use a Projection and Chassis at the same time otherwise?" He twirled a strand of his hair. "I'm promised more mutagen being in possession of the relay. You must understand how much this means to me."

"Alright, you got me." Serafeim twitched. "That's a fake. A placeholder. We found the original and someone swiped it from under the noses of those working in security before me; quick joke, how many humans does it take to guard a mask? _Insufficient data._ "

Smithy stiffed a laugh.

"Don't leak this to the press though, I swear to God. I won't just be fired, they'll interrogate me after they find out we've had a chat.

" Serafeim shuddered. "I don't want to know what kind of malware they have."

Smithy scratched his chin. "My Chassis could produce replicas," he told her. "Surely you're able to do this and search for or the co-ordinates as to where the real artefact lies? There's something in it for both of us in this situation. I have Mutagen, and you're dubbed a hero by your branch for recovering lost property."

Serafeim didn't look so sure. "Miss Allstar's mapping would unfortunately only go as far as if we were establishing the Circle Theory for an offender; I would've tried tracking the sodding thing if I could ages ago otherwise. I've never been asked to recreate anything besides documents, and that was during a meeting when the photocopiers stopped working."

"If you're able to scan and photocopy, replication shouldn't be a stretch."

"I-would embrace you if I could, bless you."

Smithy raised an eyebrow. "How are you even here?"

The projection started playing with the buttons on her coat. "They asked me to embark on an excursion to Earth. Those with their immobile Chassis stations love sending us on wild goose chases don't th - oh, sorry, I didn't mean you. I'm guessing you were using your ship resources until you got here, or your portable died in a wreckage when landing. These things happen all the time. I should know. _We_ crashed. It's so easy for them to say, The Emperor and those little contraptions running around in their flimsy robes calling themselves butlers and maids, 'this mission is going to go just right! It's destined! After all, this isn't just any old trip-

 **"** _ **We've found Goldilocks sleeping in a blanket of suns-'"**_

they said together.

Smithy felt his skin crawl. "We were on the same mission, weren't we?"

"Apparently so." Serafeim averted her eyes. " You'll know then the ship crashed. It's hard to shake something like that off despite it being, what, sixty millions years ago? _He_ was watching me, it seems. You know, that geezer humans say resides in the clouds. If you've been above the surface, I'm sure you're familiar with what I'm about to tell you. Ten years ago, there was a disturbance in Earth's tectonic plates. You could say there was - a Supermoon - but no. No, there was genuinely movement of the moon; it started closing in on the Earth, and-"

 **Pulse**

Smithy's blood ran cold.

"I-"

"What's the matter?"

A shiver rattled down the man's spine. "There's something about what you said."

"Sorry, I'm not really-"

"It doesn't matter."

"Smitty-"

Smithy sighed. "My memory storage was corrupted a few years back. To this day, I'm still not sure how or why. According to Sarah Jane, it was her doing. She said I needed rewiring."

"Rewiring?" Serafeim bit her lip. "How could you need rewiring? You're innately directed towards a specific purpose. You can't deviate from that-"

"Oh no, it wouldn't be anything to do with deviating from Purpose," Smithy went on. "She said I forgot my Purpose, and that it was to protect Earth." His gaze shifted to the left, and his thumbs were rubbing the fabric of his dress. "I trust her. But there's something very important here I'm missing."

"That's quite a feat. Of course, it isn't impossible." Serafeim positioned her beret. "Computer viruses are still a vulnerability. What model Chassis do you have anyway ?"

Smithy puffed out a cheek. "Again, I couldn't tell you - but that's not because I've forgotten; no, there's nothing to forget there." He started laughing awkwardly. "We made it from her chimney."

"Wait, y-" Serafeim blew a raspberry. "-Model 2? Improvised Domesticated Structure?"

Smithy sighed. "Don't laugh-"

"You've got to be kidding me. No wonder you've got yourself a virus, that's HILARIOUS!" The woman slapped her thigh. "Wait wait wait wait wait please don't tell me you have a DVD player and a compass."

The man felt his temperature rise in embarrassment. "I have DVD player and a compass."

"WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING_?!"

"Just remember who has third dimensional printing and advanced geographical profiling." Smithy tried to compose himself quickly. "Fret not, however, as I've said I will teach you these things."

Unable at this present time to manage a Chassis himself, Smithy taught Serafeim through observation and empirical judgement on her own practice. It took a few hours, although it were worth it; as soon as the woman had got the knack, there was no stopping her.

"Now I can be assured I'm not working against myself," she muttered.

Smithy "Tell me, again, the exact co-ordinates where the genuine object lies."

Serafeim, hesitation evident in her voice, named a set of numbers; however, to her surprise, the same code was displayed on the monitor.

"Very good."

The woman sighed in relief. "Alright. As we said-"

There was then a dial-up sound, the buttons on the Chassis body, following a sequence, glowed one by one.

The casing fell from the display, leaving the relay exposed.

It illuminated green.

"There! If for whatever reason you need someone's help again, I'm around." A smile glitched across Serafeim's face. "For now though, do us a favour and knock yourself out with that-"

"Thank you." Ignoring the playful double meaning in her closing comment, Smithy nodded appreciatively and gathered the relay into his arms as though it were a newborn infant. " _Thank you_."

 **Derelict Warehouse, Redder's Way. 01:35AM.**

Smithy found Ozmo wrapping himself around when he arrived.

"This planet's so cold," the alien tried to muster through chattering teeth. "I-it's... _enough to freeze your monoids off!_ "

The previous snorted. "You're in England. Go to the Indonesian islands, you'll come to know at least one Xylok who's melted into sentient molten glass."

"I know, I know, but I've found myself in hotter climates here. That'd still be, like, moving things from the freezer into the fridge." Ozmo jogged up and down on the spot.

Smithy was unsure as to whether or not the man intended to come across so animated. "Now-" He felt a sudden jolt in his fingers; the hand was crackling to crystal already. "The stabiliser shot."

"Ah! Ahh yes, I'm an 'Ozmoid of my Word!"

Keeping to his side of the deal, Ozmo whipped out a small, red device from his blazer pocket. There was a nozzle at one end, which Smithy applied to the shards breaking through before anything worsened.

Slowly, they reverted to flesh.

"Time for me to love you and leave you, I guess. If I go now, I'll be able to catch the last day of the Krulka carnival." Ozmo waved frantically. "Look forward to the rest of your human life!"

Smithy left as the alien faded away, and found himself crumbling to the floor in reprieve. Deciding to walk there and back had been a great overestimate of his stamina. The man started to fear the worst: would he have to sleep outside? Strangers would find him. They might think him homeless, throw water over him, or recognise his condition and feel pity; he wouldn't be able to decide then whether or not they took him to the hospital. This, of course, wouldn't have been worse than being unable to get back to Bannerman Road and settle into his quilts for the morning if he slept outside here. The others would notice very quickly he wasn't around and go searching for him.

 _What could I say, that I sleep walk?_ Smithy gnawed his nails nervously. _No, that could never do for Sarah Jane Smith._

The man wrestled with his thoughts, flickering back to Serafeim. _Why did I never use a Projection?_ His eyes flittered to a crisp packet taken by the breeze. _Perhaps if I used a Projection and presented myself as human in addition and off the bat, the others might have accepted this better. Me, as a matter of fact._

There was a sudden bright light, and the man lifted his head.

A vehicle had pulled up beside him.

 _Who am I?_


	7. Chapter 7

As a writer, you'll find pathetic fallacy a pleasurable literary device to integrate into your work.

So I'm going to let you in on the secrets of Dawn, stretching her rosy fingers across the sky; how she decorated the flowers, with dew sequins symbolic of tears from the previous night's distressing uncertainties, now blossoming forth to the Sun's rays, for there is an opportunity today, a means of tying loose ends first thought to unlace one's mind.

The man returned from his walk to be greeted by the horrified looks of those waiting for him inside.

"Y-you — you went outside _with your pyjamas as on_?!" Sarah Jane cried out.

Our cloudcuckoolander shifted the glasses further up his nose, obliviously stepping past her with his hands behind his back and dragging a tank attached to a handle with him, skipping a little towards the window. "Heard about the roseate dawn, wanted to see how roseate it actually is," he mused softly, sliding his finger across the pane, eyes glistening with wonder and a slightly open smile, before letting out a breathless sigh. "And let me tell you, it's pretty darn roseate out here." Smithy realised his teeth weren't jagged anymore.

The Mutagen had gotten stronger.

"You and Sky, you aren't far off each other in terms of experience," Sarah Jane piped up. "Perhaps you should spend some time together."

The man titled his neck away from the window, moving towards the fridge for some milk, the cupboard for two bowls and the wall unit for cornflakes. He'd learned his lesson from the day before. "I _get_ you!" He exclaimed, turning to the girl sat across the room eating a Nutella sandwich. " _Carpe diem;_ look that up!"

Sarah Jane placed the second bowl on the table and poured him a glass of orange juice.

The man faced her. "My dear, you wouldn't mind assisting me with the measuring stick, would you?"

The woman laughed. "You can take your own height!"

"I know I can." Smithy lowered his head. "I just don't want to."

Sarah Jane gave him a concerned look. "Why not?" she asked.

"It's a personal thing."

He took her wrists into his hands suddenly.

They locked gazes.

"Adds it's own little touch."

The woman's face went red. "So, I, ah–" Sarah Jane hesitated, flustered. "And what are your plans for the diem?"

Smithy shrugged. "Nothing particularly spectacular." The man placed a finger beneath his chin. "Although, I am very interested in exploring more of the country - and we won't have to walk anymore!"

Sarah Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see what I mean; I shall dine and dress first, but!" He clasped his hands together in delight.

"I have a car."

0o0

Rolling in from behind the wall, a polished, forest green 1925 Bentley 3 Litre.

Sarah Jane's eyes widened. "Where did you-"

 _Lifting himself from where he was sat, Smithy went to investigate._

 _There was no one sitting in the front seat._

 _Apprehensively, the man drew closer, noticing a note stuck to the dashboard._

 _He was thankful the vehicle had an open roof, taking it._

 _"Hey, Smitty!_

 _Thought you might find this useful so got it out the back for you. From an old exhibition about the Early 1900's, see - I tweaked the engine, but it should work anyway with a bit of Xylok magic. In the dashboard there's a driver's license. Have fun!_

 _— Serafeim"_

Below were doodles drawn with a crash - which whilst they weren't, could have been thought illustrated by a very young child. On one side, there was a stick figure in a yellow hat and dress with auburn hair, over-exaggerative glasses and an oxygen tank, and another with dark hair, wearing that of a UNIT Private; the other side had two geometric shapes which could only be made out as crystals.

Smithy smiled. "A friend," he replied, and leaned on the wheel. "How does it look? I think it goes particularly well with my chosen attire today. You're a Taurus as well aren't you, Sarah Jane? Green is the lucky colour of the Taurus. I find that a wonderful coincidence - and you can be assured everywhere I turn, I won't be able to escape from you today." The man gestured towards the back seat. "Are you wanting to come along? I would have you in the front, but I have to store this tank somewhere close by." Then in the corner of his eye, he spotted Carla and Clyde taking out the waste and called over to them. "Hullo there!" He waved his arm which wasn't not rested on the wheel. "I'm taking Her out for a test run. It would be wonderful love to be in such good company!"

Carla dropped the last bag into the container and walked over slowly, jaw dropping at the ride.

"Yes! Yes, hello, my fellow Cinderella!" Smithy flicked back his hair. "Would you care to join me and enjoy a sunny day in the countryside?"

The woman glanced back at her son. "C-Clyde, you're alright clearing out the shed, aren't you?"

Clyde looked over for a few seconds. He frowned - then nodded, otherwise without giving a response.

"Buckle up then, my dear!" Smithy heard the door behind him open and close. "I hate to say it, but this is only the second time I've driven a car like this."

Carla's pupils shrank. "WH-"

"Bye bye, Buttons!" Smithy bellowed to Sarah Jane and Clyde, flicking his wrist in both directions.

"There will be Travel-"

The man fixed the key into the ignition.

"There will be Scene-"

He turned it, and the engine groaned into action.

"W-w-well! I can't think if any other time I'll get to sit in the back of a Bentley. I guess there's no turning back-"

"EXCITEMENT—!"

The car shrieked, jumping back and forth between the white lines of the lane as Smithy hastily clasped at the steering wheel.

"-NNOW?!" Carla shrieked.

Clyde found himself stumbling after them. "If you kill my Mum, Smithy, I swear t-"

But the two of them were slightly faster than he could keep up with, laughing and screaming.

0o0

"My Mum's going out with a screensaver."

Sky looked up from the Sarah Jane's computer. The young girl was streaming the news channel in one tab, trawling through emails in another. "Sorry?" She kept an ear out and continued scrolling. "I've just been keeping up with any incoming data. We're getting so many messages! But they're making sense this time. Here's one from a sender going by a sequence of numbers, and the subject is 'Hey now! It's your Allstar, get your game on, g-"

"Probably spam. Listen, Sky, my Mum -" He hesitated. "My Mum's caught the flue."

Sky frowned. "What does catching the flu have anything to do w-OHHH flue." The girl's face fell in shock. "Oh no."

"Oh yes. He took her out on a drive."

"I-it could have just been a friendly, a-ah, breaking the ice, I think it's called? Luke told me just because a man and a man or a woman and a woman are together, we shouldn't assume they're just friends, and if a man and a woman are going out, it doesn't mean they're going out-"

The attic door thwacked open. In entered Rani, who smacked a pile of broadsheets onto the table.

The two descended the step and eyed the title of the one first catching their eye.

 **Museum Theft Baffles Cops.**

"What's going on at the moment?" The older girl asked exasperatedly, though to no avail. "Usually we're the ones on top of everything. I know how everyone else must feel now. There's so much happening and it's all so ... weird; it makes me uncomfortable."

Clyde gathered the paper together. "The London Museum is being investigated following the removal and replacement of a Mayan artefact," he read. "The recent object contained is rumoured to be the true one, however, police are unsure and nevertheless want to look into the case further to find out where the missing item i-"

"We interrupt this program with an important broadcast."

Sky gasped and ascended the step again. She stretched out the minimised window on Sarah Jane's computer as the video loaded, Clyde and Rani following suit standing beside her.

"Another victim has been found dead in her Hounslow apartment.

These current murders are part of a truly horrific case - the decapitated bodies of women ranging from their early twenties to late fifties, presumably having worn necklaces before the time of death, are being found across the country. As a result, ladies both young and old are urged to lock their doors and windows nearing the late afternoon, particularly if they're living on their own.

As a result of the victims meeting their maker in such a terrifying way, the killer has been nicknamed The Necklace Ripper. There are still no leads on just who this culprit could be. Joanna Lys, BBC News.

If you think you can contribute any information to assist the police search, please call-"

Rani gradually muted the television. "You know," she mumbled, almost inaudible. "I'm starting to realise how difficult our job is protecting the Earth without Mr Smith. More than ever."

Sky thumbed her fingers. "I feel really ill," she mumbled, head down.

"But listen," The older girl placed a hand on the younger one's shoulder. "Humans, we're better than we think. Some of us, at least. We've got moral values, and we've got each other. We'll make it through like we always do."

"Perhaps," Clyde chimed in. "That creep on the news is also the burglar. Then detectives only have one job-"

"We need a stairlift installed, Sarah Jane!"

The attic door bolted open suddenly and both girls screamed, the topic of conversation still playing on their minds.

"You may think me as younger than I am, but my lungs are only getting older," Smithy bellowed. He faced the kids, only to be met with an awkward silence.

"She's got a visitor," Rani whispered harshly.

"I know! I offered him a spot of tea." The man slammed the door. "Splendid man." He flashed Clyde a grin. "Remarkable work on the shed. Your mother's delighted."

Quiet.

"Is something wrong?"

Clyde stepped forward. "What is this?" He asked. "What are you doi-trying to do?"

Smithy squeezed his wrists anxiously. "W-well, I simply wanted to cheer your charming mother up," he told the younger man.

No response.

He started picking at his face. "Whenever you came up to see me, on your own, you would always tell me about your mother, how much you cared about her and wanted her to be happier. How much you worried about her. There's so much she's endured and all those things your father did to her; she deserves more from life, and I felt so unhelpful being confined to the attic. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to help you both out."

Apprehensive, Sky and Rani exchanged glances.

This disclosure of information, understandably, made Clyde angry. "Wow! Thanks for sharing that with everyone! It's not like I didn't want it spouted about or anything." He hesitated - and laughed, bitterly, feeling the girls watching. "Sarcasm, by the way. You think just because you've spent like a week being human you get it. We're just data to interpret and get processed or whatever.

It's nothing unusual to you, just a new way to analyse points. Expand your knowledge. You think you can have a go at changing the outcome of something when it doesn't fit the... Paradigm? That's what it's called. Yeah. 'Heard Luke talk about it the other day - don't worry, I'm still stupid. You don't have to change that in your expectations.

But you don't know understand it's like. You could never understand what it's like. What am I trying to say? I prefer spending time thinking before I speak, sorry."

Clyde turned away from Smithy, growing annoyed at having to try and maintain eye contact with him, the way he towered over with a titled head in what the young man found, and many in that situation would find, insensitive curiosity.

"It was just a private conversation with a machine."

The room went completely dead.

In that moment, a lump entered Smithy's throat. His chest tightened and an unpleasant thumping caught upon his left rib, body aching with anxiety.

"I-" The man shut his eyes tightly, pressing the viscous liquid which caused a blur in the side of his vision to subside into the sockets instead of fall to his cheeks. "Of course. Of course; I'm sorry, Clyde."

That's when a familiar sound crept into his right ear. The man let out a small yelp, opening and directing his eyes towards the corner of the room slightly.

Ozmo was rattling his fingers on Sarah Jane's desk.


	8. Chapter 8

_She can't hear me. She can't see me. Only you can!_

Overcoming his initial shock, confusion and irritation, the man recollected this information surrounding the traveller's apparitions and realised something needed to be done about him appearing mid-conversation.

"Psst! I know you're caught up in something. But just - give me a one word answer."

Well that would do it.

"My carbon refractor's overloaded," Ozmo went on to explain. "I need some... Diamond thing from a bank vault I've got the co-ordinates for, but I can't find the person who's got the key to cracking the security system. Y'think you could do that?"

That's what Rani began speaking as well. "H-hey, Smithy. Humans go by... a certain social etiquette. There's no way I'd ever want to patronise you, I know you've got the knowledge stored up there in that awesome head of yours, but it seems like we need to put some time into applying it to real life. It might even be good for when you're back to normal, too." The last part was an aside, obviously. "But you didn't mean anything bad when you let the cat slip out of the bag about Clyde, did you?"

Smithy felt himself starting to sweat. "No," he replied, making sure the first speaker caught his glare.

The double meaning response was a success.

The alien turned away slowly, a stern expression washing onto his face. "You'll change your mind when I tell you the stabiliser I gave you was an unreliable strand, I'm sure," he told the man in a sharp tone which made him question whether it were one of concern or demand. "That's right, Twinkle Toes. You'll be a Xylok again by tomorrow afternoon. Or worse, knowing the nature of Mutagen - dead."

The girl so happened to face the opposite way to Ozmo, and it felt truly as if Smithy were existing in parallels. "This is beyond unexpected, and we've all got a lot going through our heads, all of our heads, without other things springing up! But that's more the reason to stick together and use this as an opportunity to learn a thing or two from each other."

Smithy's brow started to sweat. "R-right." The conversation before caused him to freeze up quite considerably.

Ozmo cracked his knuckles and cackled. "W-well, I'm sure you've got your ways!" Then, to the man's relief, actually disappeared sooner than he thought.

"Come on." Rani smiled. "Make up."  
Still stubborn in retaining his own views, nevertheless tolerant of others, Clyde came forward and outstretched his right hand. Smithy was prepared to take out his left hand from his cardigan pocket when circumstances couldn't have opposed him more.

He clenched his now crackling fist and shut his eyes tightly in frustration. The man quickly resulted to patting Clyde on the back using the unaffected hand instead, and in a panicked rush, without dropping a single hint of where he was headed, fled the house.

0o0

 _Her office is out back,_ Smithy remembered.

He found it, deciphered the code needed to enter and stepped through the door.

"Miss Allstar."

Rather than the woman who greeted him the first time, a rather small Chassis was sat on a nearby coffee table with the crystal rested next to it. He realised this machine had been the one she carried; the body just converted itself into a control panel and keyboard.

"Back already?" A familiar voice arose from the speakers. "You missed me that much?"  
Smithy waited for the automatic door to close behind him. "All too much," he replied.  
Miss Allstar made a grinding sound. "Clearly not! You haven't even said Hello," the Xylok retorted, then with a flattening beep.  
The man sighed. "Hello, Serafeim."

The machine clonked, and a bright light followed.

The woman Smithy met the night before stood by the machine. "How can I help?"  
A response to the point would be best. "I need The Diamond," Smithy told her, though not quite understanding what he was trying to say himself. "Do you have the key to the bank vault?"  
Serafeim tapped her foot. "There are more than a few diamonds you could be referring to," she pointed out. "But I'm guessing you're thinking of The Facet Diamond? You must be thinking of The Facet Diamond. That's a rather important Diamond, and it's not too far from here." The woman rested her elbow into the palm of her other hand. "Are you needing it for a carbon refractor or something?"  
"Spot on. At least, I know the second part is." Smithy raised his eyebrows. "Just by referring to it as The Diamond instead of A Diamond, you seemed to know exactly what I was taking about."  
Serafeim laughed. "Have you been kept locked up in an attic or something?" she quipped.  
"Urm... Yes?" The man grew more concerned for his confidentiality.  
The woman's expression returned to solemnity again. "You need The Facet Diamond. Well." She started roaming aimlessly. " _Well._ "  
"Well?" Smithy echoed.

Serafeim then halted abruptly in her tracks and spun around.  
"Well, I don't have the key."

Smithy felt a weigh on his chest. "You don't have the key." He sounded defeated.  
"I don't have the key," she said again. "Do you suffer from anterograde amnesia too?"  
Ignoring her snark, the man tried not to give up any last remnants of hope he had. "Then where is it?" he asked.  
Serafeim frowned without reply.  
"Where is it?" The man continued to press.  
The woman narrowed her eyes. "I can't tell you."  
Smithy stood unsure.  
Serafeim folded her arms. "The person who has it, th–no, actually? I don't think that's my business to tell you."  
"Can you at least tell me where they are?" The man tried desperately.  
She twirled a lock. "How am I supposed to trust you? I mean

 **You**  
 **Can't**  
 **Trust**  
 **A Xylok**

I can understand artefacts that have simple enough passwords you can crack, but, without disclosing too much, we're more dealing with a far more difficult matter here."  
Smithy placed a hand over his own forehead, but out of another migraine.  
"What's that?" Serafeim asked.  
"A rather bad headache."  
The woman rolled her eyes. "Alright - fine. But if I find out you've made them give over the key unwillingly, I'll snap those gallivanting sticks of yours in half." She withdrew into a sudden stream of bright light, reverting back into crystalline form.

Her chassis sprung back to life. The screens streamed blue numbers as tabs started popping up all over the place, and eye straining, neon buttons lit up the control pad.  
There were three windows open on a map, the zoom application further into the target as you went along. A slightly smaller one suddenly emerged from the far right, depicting a profile.

 **Surname: Johnson  
First name: Jack**  
 **Nationality: American**  
 **Height: 5'9**  
 **Weight: 153lbs**  
 **Blood Type: O+**  
 **Date of Birth: [REDACTED]**  
 **Species: Human**  
 **Current Location: Cogspring's Watches and Jewellers, Jekyll's Street, Ealing, London, Essex, C0J MO24**

Attached to the data was the image of a man, wearing a dirty blouse, goggles on a head of scruffy mousse coloured hair and an awkward smile which didn't go well with his severely creased eyebrows.

"Human?" Smithy found himself saying out loud.  
"Human," Serafeim confirmed. "With an unfortunate medical history. Use reasonable force and don't try anything sneaky. There's really no need." She closed the tabs, the blue numbers faded out and her screen returned to displaying it's usual vibrant pattern. "You've got a car now, too. That makes things a lot easier, doesn't it?"

0o0

Arriving home, Smithy was greeted through the door by the concerned cries of Sarah Jane and rapid fire of questions from Sky; however, this were a rather short encounter.

The man resolved to simply avoid them, migrate to the bedroom, lock the door and drown out any knock. He folded his legs, lacing his arms around them, face buried into his knees. After a while, he rose his head with the flick of a strand of hair and lifted his now red raw left hand into his line of vision to see the damage done so far - and fell asleep.

Falling.

Smi thy fo und hims elf susp end ed ab o ve the dee pest bed of the At la nt ic Oc ean

. . . H o w ?

His oxygen tank had been upgraded to that of a scuba-diver. Under the sea, under the line of ambiguity, you could suppose now everyone was an equal. He felt his hair move with the soft current. This could have been an actual sequence of events, were it not that he'd no protection for this eyes and kept his heavy dress moving fine nevertheless.

That's when he saw a thick, metallic object lashed out from behind a rock.  
It moved for him.

 **How ... INTERESTING.**

 **What a  
SURPRISING**  
 **turn of events.**

 **...  
...**  
 **...**

 **Now, I may be incapable of seeing into the future, but were we to analyse an assortment of multi universal possibilities, a very high probability exists determining the two of us should meet soon.**

There was a ringing.

 **Will there be people before me?  
I sense a few unaffiliated.**  
 **Yes. Yes, a few have already greeted you into their arms.**

The wires threw him violently towards towards a different terrain—

 **Let's  
See**  
 **How**  
 **This**  
 **Goes**  
 **Shall we?**

T  
O  
W  
A  
R  
D  
S

A  
N

E  
N  
T  
R  
A  
N  
C  
E

Dark

DARK

— Smithy woke with a start.

 **Right where _I need you_ to be. Ha!**

 **HA!**

 **Haha!**

 **HAHAHAHAHAHA-**

 **See what I did there?**

 **This is HILARIOUS!**


	9. Chapter 9

"You didn't answer us yesterday."

Sarah Jane was finished tying the knot of Smithy's dress.  
It was short and navy blue, with lace covering the man's skin where straps might have otherwise been. "I wanted some time alone," he told her.  
His hair was done up in a clip. The woman started curling the two strands tumbling infront of his face. "You made a racket again last night," she added.  
"I had a nightmare," came the reply.  
Sarah Jane hesitated, and smiled. "Don't you think it's amazing you can dream?" she asked him.  
"We thought Luke couldn't dream."  
"Oh, of course, but this is different-"

Though that's when Smithy felt something rise from within him which he hadn't before. It wasn't embarrassment, nor was it anxiety, nor was it sorrow. It made him want to lift the table and haul it into the window just to hear the glass smash. "I was a fool to think you realised, unlike the others."

As a human, they had yet to see him angry until then.

"I forgot no matter how much I disputed it even before this discourse, you all thought I was just a hunk of junk. Do you think I dream of electric sheep? A trick question there, _because I'm not just a computer_." The man removed her arms from his shoulders. "I have somewhere to be."

He stormed out the door with a sharp flick of the dress and slamming of heels against the wooden floor as he snatched his keys from the counter, coat from the hanger and brolly from the bucket.

0o0

Driving does something to the mind.

There's something soothing about concentrating on where you're required to be as you take in the world around you. Getting from A to B is like an excitatory neurone jumping from the pre synaptic nerve ending to the post synaptic nerve ending.

A portable radio sat on the dashboard. At the red traffic light, Smithy leaned over and switched between channels. He heard a whining trumpet harmonious with an electronic percussion track and turned up the volume.

Their music can be just as good as ours.

Oblivious to the annoyance of other drivers, Smithy found himself moving about in his seat to the song.

 **Warmed by your light one more time  
Just a jump and come to you The rich have money**  
 **The bees make honey Love is never pure**  
 **Please can you be mine one more time?**  
 **Not once in a blue moon**  
 **The rich have money, the bees make honey**  
 **Love is uncertain so**

The light changed to green, so he drove forward.

 **How the wolf sings, howls at midnight  
He's trying to call out her name**  
 **But his love is still too far away**

The man found himself in a 30mph lane a little further on and slowed the car accordingly. I think I'm improving, he thought to himself.

This confidence flew through the roof however when someone in a white van started driving closer to the boot and decided to overtake.

" _DID YOUR MOTHER NEVER TEACH YOU TO READ_?!" Smithy yelled, and whilst yet to utter what they considered a curse, there was something invigorating about showing off your middle finger to someone from a driver's seat.

 **How the wolf sings at the stroke of midnight  
He will be waiting till doomsday**  
 **But his love is still too far away.**

He realised the lyrics unsettled him, though he couldn't pinpoint why. Thankfully, the  
man arrived at his destination and removed himself from the car.

A small sign:

Cogspring's Watches and Jewellers

"Tag! You're it!"

Almost hitting him, there passed a girl with plaited ginger hair and freckles.

"Hey, that's not fair! I was _tying_ my _shoelaces-_ "

A younger boy tried running after her, with far less stamina, black hair, green eyes and less height and weight on him.  
There sounded a bicycle bell nearby and a boy much older than the first sped out from an alleyway.  
The smaller boy saw his chance. He tapped the eldest on the arm. " _It_!"  
This older boy swivelled slightly, though able to regain his posture before an accident. "Watch it!" he snapped. Any aggravation was fast to vanish however when he realised who it was that thought it funny to prod him. "Who tagged you? Was it Guinevere?"  
This younger boy's face grew serious. "She's too fast, Thomas!" he cried. "She always manages to tag me, an-"  
"Ahh..." Thomas pushed on the pedals one by one, gradually picking up speed. "Gui-ne-vere! Come he-re! I - am - going - to - kick - your - rear!"  
The younger boy started laughing.

Smithy smiled, turning towards the cottage. It was painted magnolia with a thatched roof and stain glasses windows. Sitting in the front garden, were identical girls threading daisy chains.

He headed for the door and rapped on the knocker.

After a very short wait, a tiny woman with curly brown hair answered. "Hel-lo there!" she greeted him. The ginger girl known as Guinevere and the older boy referred to as Thomas barged past. "Forgive me-" She cocked her head towards the interior. "And just where are your manners?!"  
"Sorry, Mum!" they both cried out in unison as they disappeared into the living room.

Following the woman's gaze, Smithy managed to sneak a peek in. They had plaques, sayings, printed on the wood using a font wanting which could easily be mistaken for handwritten work, which read along the lines of _May your troubles be less, blessings be more, nothing but happiness arrive to your door_ and _Family Rules: Say please and thank you, forgive, laugh, listen and don't forget to say you love one another._ There was an ornament rested above the fireplace - a box with the words _Our family's love is tied together by a string engraved on the lid_ ; indeed, by a string was how there hung eight hearts with different names engraved in the wood. Someone was working on a beautiful cross stitch, saying _God bless this house._ Professional photographs of the woman and her children were mounted on the walls and mantelpiece - in many of them, the man Smithy needed to see stood beside her.

Positioned next to the dining room window were two faded photographs of Jack Johnson and a very young boy he hadn't seen yet. In the first, their foreheads were pressed together, eyes closed with creases and big grins on their faces. In the second, the woman was holding one of the young boy's hands as he flashed an overjoyed grin at the camera. The man was kissing his cheek.

The woman turned back. "What can I help you with?"  
Smithy returned her gaze before she could see him poking his head around. "I'm here to speak to a Mr Jack Johnson?"  
"That'd be my husband."  
And as if on cue, making his way into view came a man of average build with brunette hair and watering hazel eyes. From the outset, his demeanour were abnormally timid; his entire frame shook violently as he rung his hands so hard you could see the red from quite a distance.

"H-hey, that's me!"  
Smithy quickly picked up on the man's Tennessee accent, as well as how startlingly deep his voice was.  
The American tried a smile. "B-but you can call me Cogspring. T-the entrance to the shop is round the back. D-don't worry! Easy mistake." He laughed nervously, stepping out after Smithy made room for him and led the way. "We should sign post better, h-hahaha-!"

During this walk over not too long a space of time, Cogspring managed to squeeze in plenty of small talk about the weather, how well his business was doing and the holiday to France his family were going on in a couple of weeks, making jokes about his clumsiness as he fumbled for the keys when they fell onto the concrete as the two reached the entrance. The man grabbed for them a few times before finally catching them back into his hands and struggling with the lock until Smithy helped him.

The former led the latter in and stopped ringing his hands, instead clasping them together. "W-what can I do for you?"

Smithy sized Cogspring up and down. He thought back to the woman who met him first, the children running around, their living room and the conversation exchanged from the front door to the back. Had Serafeim tricked him? This couldn't be the right person. Jack Johnson was a textbook case of the average human run down a little by first world issues.

Right?

But he might as well have tried the man. "I'm here for the Diamond."  
Cogspring froze.  
"Is everything alright?"  
He jolted suddenly, a smile then quivering back into view. "O-oh, diamond," he repeated, nodding slowly and ringing his hands again. "I can get you a diamond." The man moved behind his desk, unlocking the door and hauling out a shelf used to display a selection of earrings, watches and pendants.  
"No, The _Facet_ Diamond," Smithy pressed, lifting a hand to let him know his actions weren't needed. "It's very important to me. I have to know where you're keeping it."  
Cogspring's left eye started twitching. "What are you talking abou-"  
"Since this is the first time we've met, I'm unfamiliar with your knowledge concerning the Jewel. However, I understand now just by judging your mannerisms why my friend was apprehensive giving me your whereabouts. This is clearly something whi-"  
His eyebrows creased suddenly and dramatically, his mouth forming an ugly 'O' shape.

"Y-YOU'RE ONE OF THEM! YOU'RE ONE OF THEM, AREN'T YOU?! YYYYOU. YOU MUST BE; YYOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU—"

Before Smithy could register the movement, Cogspring whipped out a bible from his left pocket and a pistol from his right, crossing both arms over each other as he levelled the latter for him.

"Y-you're going to put your hands in the air, R-RIGHT NOW."

Knowing full well this could end badly, Smithy complied.  
"GGOOD." Cogspring cackled anxiously. "I don't care if you're the LAST surviving member of your kind! T-that would be EVEN better! I'm going to put an END to you, an end to all this, RRIGHT HERE, TWINKLE TOES—"  
"Hold on." Smithy stiffed a laugh. "Twinkle Toes?"  
Cogspring wheezed.  
He narrowed his eyes. "...You've meant Ozmo, haven't you?"

The man slid the bible back into his pocket and reached for the door handle. "I-I can lock this," he asserted, ensuring the gun didn't waver from his target. "You're going nowhere near my wife or children. T-this is a personal matter."  
Smithy sighed. "Listen, I'm not after your wife or your children. I'm not even after you." He softened. "I'm after The Facet Diamond. That's all." He watched Cogspring's quivering lips and eyes, which were brimming with tears. "What happened to you?"  
"What d-do you mean, w-w-what's hhhappened to me?" was the man's reply.  
"Alright, let me rephrase that."

Smithy hesitated.  
"Where is your Chassis?"

Cogspring's pupils were dilated before the discussion took a turn, perhaps from medication, but this question caused them to shrink. "I don't have one," he answered quietly. "I d-don't need one. W-what are you talking about?"  
"Well, that just backfired, didn't it?" Smithy cracked his knuckles. "There's only one way you could have understood what I was asking you. How do you know about us? We've been rather adept at avoiding radar. If it weren't for myself or Serafeim, we would practically have remained invisible. Are you a member of or perhaps know a member of UNIT?" He played with a strand of his hair. "Or are you exactly who - or what - I would say you are?"

Cogspring exhaled. He dropped his gun, and without warning, the tears slipped from his eyelids and he began to cry.

"You're human. I'm not going to deny you that. Of course you are," Smithy continued. "I'm not here to remind you of a past I can see is clearly upsetting you, though this unfortunate trail of events has - urm - allowed it to resurface again." He reshuffled his dress. "You were once a Xylok, and you happened to make the deal with Ozmo to become human. You completed the contract, so you're human permanentl-"

Cogspring dried his eyes. When he spoke, he managed not to falter. "I was enlisted for the Excursion to Earth of which the ship crashed many millennia ago and found by an American explorer uncovering secrets belonging to the land of Sumatra during the early 1800's. He didn't tell his crew about me; I was kept a secret and passed down as an heirloom. The family managed not to lose me even when they migrated from Nashville to Ealing. They must've found me that intriguing to look at. I never tried to communicate with them until I realised how - despite them not knowing it on more than a few occasions - wonderful their lives were as humans, how overwhelming I felt my life had been as a Xylok and how deeply I fell in love with the woman now my wife.

Ozmo said if I could find and look after the Facet Diamond whilst he was travelling and allow him access to it when he needed, he would give me enough Mutagen shots to take on a human shift permanently. Mutagen was so much easier for those in trade to get a hold of back then wherever one was in the universe because mechanical advances were happening everywhere, and those who still supported using Mutagen hastily released it for supply in large doses. Anyway, I did as he asked, and now I'm human. Forever. Gretchen, her name is - Gretchen and I got married. We eventually had a son.

A-ah... Lex. Seven years old and bullied relentlessly at school for taking part in a ballet class. Eventually he was woken up night after night by terrifying nightmares." Cogspring's eyes watered again. "They were about drowning. Gretchen would go to change his quilts and there were wet patches. I told him to carry on swimming, but he said... they kept dragging him down. I tried to ask who 'they' were but he just shook his head."

What Cogspring said next made Smithy's blood run cold.

"Lex said someone had been talking to him. One morning, he wouldn't come downstairs for breakfast. We thought he was just refusing to get up for school and went upstairs to fetch him." Cogspring was trembling very much now. "He was dead."  
"I'm very sorry."  
"They said it was a suicide. B-but I don't think Lex took his life. I think he was murdered." More tears fell from the man's eyes. "I-I think son died b-because, w-w-well, I'm c-certain it was because he never meant to exist in the first place — y-you could never understand how that feels."  
"What about your other children?" Smithy asked softly.  
"T-they aren't b-biologically mine," he sniffled. "I w-was still on Mutagenic Injections. W-we couldn't have children 'naturally' then, so she had two donors, one which created twins; t-the other two are adopted..."  
Smithy remembered the underestimated time and effort it took to forge both Luke and Sky's papers. "You really went lengths."  
"W-we did." Cogspring timid smile rekindled then like a dimly lit candle in the dark. "I'm guessing you've been sent by Ozmo to find The Facet Diamond for him because he wants it for something and you want humanity like I did. I can understand that. J-just... Take heed of my warning. Don't do anything you couldn't have done before. It will hurt you and those you love." The man wiped the sweat from his brow. "This identification code you want to get into the safe. It's specific to me. Only I can use it."

He started fumbling his fingers.  
"I'll have to go with you."

...

...

...

 **... Who rides there so late through the night dark and drear?**  
 **The father it is, with his infant so dear;**  
 **He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm,**  
 **He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm.**

 **"My son, wherefore seek'st thou thy face thus to hide?"**  
 **"Look, father, [GLITCH] is close by our side!**  
 **Dost see not [GLITCH] with [STATIC]?"**  
 **"My son, 'tis the mist rising over the plain."**

 **"Oh, come, thou dear infant! oh come thou with me!**  
 **For many a game I will play there with thee;**  
 **On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold,**  
 **My mother shall grace thee with garments of [STATIC]."**

 **"My father, my father, and dost thou not hear**  
 **The words that [GLITCH] now breathes in mine ear?"**  
 **"Be calm, dearest child, 'tis thy fancy deceives;**  
 **'Tis the sad wind that sighs through the withering leaves."**

 **"Wilt go, then, dear infant, wilt go with me there?**  
 **My daughters shall tend thee with sisterly care;**  
 **My daughters by night their glad festival keep,**  
 **They'll dance thee, and rock thee, and sing thee to sleep."**

 **"My father, my father, and dost thou not see,**  
 **How [GLITCH], his daughters has brought here for me?"**  
 **"My darling, my darling, I see it aright,**  
 **'Tis the aged grey willows deceiving thy sight."**

 **"I love thee, I'm charm'd by thy beauty, dear boy!**  
 **And if thou'rt unwilling, then force I'll employ."**  
 **"My father, my father, he seizes me fast,**  
 **For sorely [GLITCH] has hurt me at last."**

 **The father now gallops, with terror half wild,**  
 **He grasps in his arms the poor shuddering child;**  
 **He reaches his courtyard with toil and with dread-**

 **The child in his arms finds he...**

 **...Motionless**

 **...Dead!**

 **...**

 **...**

 **...**

 **Der Erlkonig by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, that was. My goodness.** **It gets me every time.**

 **I cannot help but laugh.**


End file.
